


I've Got Your Back (Even When I Don't)

by SoberFrost



Series: Frostbite Saga [1]
Category: DCU (Comics), Young Justice (Cartoon), Young Justice - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Cameron & Artemis are childhood friends, Child Neglect, Developing Friendships, Embarrassment, Emotional Support, Especially Icicle Sr., F/M, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Enemies to Friends, Friendship, Gen, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Parent Issues, Sportsmaster & Icicle Sr really aren't good parents, These two go through a lot, childhood friendships, mostly canon-compliant, no really we're gonna find out together, to couple?, we'll see how it ends
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-05 09:41:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 70,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25468711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoberFrost/pseuds/SoberFrost
Summary: "She spent the rest of the time waiting for their dads thinking that if he didn't get rid of that stupid smile, he'd break his face before she ever got the chance to." A series of one-shots detailing Artemis & Cameron's relationship through the years.
Relationships: Artemis Crock & Cameron Mahkent, Artemis Crock & Jade Nguyen, Artemis Crock & Lawrence Crock, Artemis Crock & Paula Crock, Artemis Crock/Wally West, Cameron Mahkent & Joar Mahkent, Cameron Mahkent/Artemis Crock
Series: Frostbite Saga [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1848493
Comments: 40
Kudos: 52





	1. Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> Been planning this for a while. Always been interested by the hinted childhood interactions between Artemis & Cameron: After all, if their parents worked together and if Artemis's dad was always "training" her, then surely they would have met. And two kids with similar parental issues, being taught to do the same stuff, with little to no other people around their age who truly understands what they're going through?
> 
> Pfft. As if they wouldn't get to know each other.
> 
> I will be outlining their ages for each chapter (at least in the beginning of this fic) so that you guys can have more context. I might stop once they're older and it doesn't affect story details as much. Based on the wikis Cameron seems to be 2 years older than Artemis, but I made him closer to 1 year or 1 1/2 years older for the sake writing their interactions as children easier.
> 
> Ages: Artemis is 9, Cameron is 10, & Jade is 14.

**Fall, 6 Years Before Team Year 1**

They first met at a clearing at some unholy hour of the night, in one of Gotham's more decrepit parks. It was a meet set up by their parents to take care of some other side business, because that's what life was like when you were a child of a criminal: Everything was always a front for something else.

At this point in time, Joar Mahkent, known by his _nom de guerre_ as Icicle, was a well established villain, having gone toe to toe with several other criminals and prominent superheroes. On the other hand, while Sportsmaster had been relatively dormant in recent years, word had spread fast about the botched job that landed the mighty Huntress in a wheelchair and behind bars. Rather than leave the life with his tail tucked between his legs, "Crusher" had made it clear to the criminal underworld that he meant business and was looking to climb the ranks.

The two men were ambitious and hardened by years of crime, eroded moral compasses, personal tragedy, and their own egos. For them, the idea that their children were going to be in "The Life" was less an idea and more a reality. It was only inevitable that their kids would meet, one way or another, so why not facilitate it themselves?

Sportsmaster stood off on one side of the clearing, his typical combat outfit replaced with a baseball cap and hoodie to shield him from the chill of the fall breeze. Tufts of his blond hair, their color dulled by age, peeked out from under his cap, signalling a need for a haircut. Beside him were two younger girls: One a teen, with an unruly black pony-tail and a mean glare that pierced the darkness of the night. The other was a younger girl, clearly a pre-teen, with a long blonde pony-tail and distinctive green sweater that stood in contrast to the dark clothing everyone else wore. Like the older girl, she was clearly trying to project confidence, but unlike her, her body language was a dead giveaway to how uneasy she felt.

They stood in the clearing alone for a few moments, before a large man came into view from the other side of the clearing. He sported greying sideburns and a goatee, and a nasty smile swept across his face as he saw his acquaintance.

"Lawrence. Nice night for a stroll," he boomed, his voice carrying across the open night.

"Well Joar, always a nice time to explore these fine public facilities," the blonde man sneered right back.

"I see you brought the girlies today," Joar said, gesturing towards the two girls standing off to the side.

"They need to learn the trade. It's about time they start getting their ears wet."

If either men saw the elder girl roll her eyes and scoff in disgust, they didn't acknowledge it. Neither men cared much for pouting children.

"Couldn't agree more. That's why I brought my own little runt." He turned towards the treeline and yelled for someone to come forward. "Boy, get over here!"

A scrawny, abnormally pale boy scurried into sight. Despite the cold, he was only wearing a t-shirt. He moved quickly but awkwardly, as if his limbs were a bit too long for his body, not stopping until he was right next to his father. He flashed a smile to the two girls across from him, but the glare he got from the dark-haired teen wiped it right off his face.

"Before we get into introductions, Lawrence, you got the package?" Joar asked.

"Yep," he answered, retrieved a small pouch from his hoodie pockets. "You have mine?"

"Right as rain," Joar answered, pulling a tiny cardboard box out of his pocket.

The two men moved forward and exchanged packages, passing along a few insults about wrinkle lines and lost fights in the process. Once they were satisfied with their packages and sated their machismo banter, they returned to their respective offspring.

Lawrence gestured to his daughters. "Alright kiddos, introduce yourselves. Don't just stand here looking like gnomes."

Now there was an obvious scoff from the eldest girl, and she merely folded her arms across her chest, choosing to glare at the back of her father's head instead of follow his instructions. She was not making any attempt to hide her displeasure at being here.

The younger girl took the initiative, taking a step forward and straightening her back to project confidence. "I'm Artemis," she said, and then elbowed her sister.

"Jade," the raven-haired girl spat out. If looks could kill, there would be two bullet holes in the back of her father's head.

Joar shoved his son forward a bit too roughly, causing him to almost trip and fall on his face.

"My name is Cameron. You can call me Cam," he eked out, an uncertain smile flickering on his face.

"Isn't that a girls name?" snickered Jade, taking a break from her death-glare to look at Cameron with teasing hostility. It wiped the smile right back off his face.

"No it's not!" he protested

"Wow, you even sound like a girl," she taunted.

"I do NOT!" he responded, his face crimson. Lawrence let out a hearty guffaw at this, patting Jade on the back, and she moved away from his touch immediately. If it bothered him, he didn't show it in the slightest. Across from them, Joar yanked his son back, and Cameron shrunk at the contact, but it did not move to free himself from his father. "Get it together boy, you're embarrassing yourself and you haven't even been here for ten minutes."

"Ahh he'll get used to it," chuckled Lawrence, before gesturing vaguely towards all the kids. "The three of you will be getting to know each other."

"What does that mean?" Jade asked.

"Means, little girl, that Joar and I have made some mutual acquaintances, and seeing as how we'll be working together a lot more often, you little kids are gonna do the same."

"Master the tools and tricks of the trade," Joar added, shaking Cameron around by his shoulder in what he probably thought was a "playful" way. It looked more like someone shaking a rag doll violently.

Lawrence grinned mercilessly at the sight. "My girls are gonna wipe the floor with your punk boy."

At that, Jade did smile.

…

As it would turn out, only two of them would get to know each other. Jade ran away only a few weeks after their original introduction, leaving Artemis alone with her father.

Cameron wasn't sure how someone could be mean enough to leave their little sister behind, but he wasn't shedding tears over it. Jade was mean and she made a habit to go above and beyond in beating his ass during all of their combat sessions. She was also ruthless with her verbal taunts, before, during, and after their training, her words sometimes hurting more than her fists. Not that their dads cared either way.

He was however, annoyed with how her absence was starting to affect Artemis. The girl was small, but someone had clearly taught her how to fight. The minute Jade left, it was like someone lit a fire under her and she threw herself into her training with renewed vigor. There was extra force and precision with every punch and kick she sent his way during training.

For a little girl, she was deceptively strong, and he was getting the bruises to prove it.

Before, they used to at least make some small talk when they were left alone together. When their parents and Jade weren't watching, sometimes they'd even let each other know where the nastiest of the old bruises hadn't healed yet, so they could avoid compounding the damage. Small mercies like that made their mandatory training much more tolerable.

Not anymore. Now she was hunting for those weak spots.

 _No,_ Cameron thought as he nursed a particularly ugly patch of bruises across his ribs, _this is not gonna work at all._

…

He thought he'd found a solution in the woods outside Gotham one day, when their fathers had dropped them off and told them to work on their weapons training. They'd been dropped off right after dusk with two backpacks of basic emergency supplies, which meant they could expect to be here until dawn.

For Artemis, that meant hours of target practice with all sorts of weapons: Bow staffs, knives, shurikens, and a longbow. For Cameron, that meant working on his ice powers.

"You _are_ the weapon boy, don't you ever forget," his father had told at him, pride in his voice. It made Cameron uneasy. Weapons hurt people, and he didn't like to hurt people. No, he'd always preferred to help people. He liked to watch those medical dramas that ran late at night and imagine that he was a Doctor or Nurse, helping someone who was hurting.

He'd learned the hard way not to verbalize those feelings in front of his father. Still, it bothered him to see Artemis clearly hurting, even if she didn't want to admit it. At the ripe old age of 10, Cameron was no stranger to loneliness, so he recognized it when he saw it. Which is why he figured maybe he could help her feel better.

"Do you want to be friends?" he asked her abruptly, munching on his half eaten PB&J sandwich.

"What?" Artemis asked, narrowing her eyes at him. He wasn't sure why she was confused. He'd spoken very clearly and there was no one else around for him to be talking to.

"Friends. Do you want to be friends? I-" he paused, looking embarrassed for a second. "I don't really have any friends at school. All the kids think I'm a weirdo."

Her response was harsh. "That's pathetic."

She felt a pang of guilt by the way he flinched at her words, and then remembered that it was a common insult she'd heard his father say. One of many common insults she heard hurled towards the boy any time he did not live up to his father's arbitrary standards.

"I'm sorry, that was mean. I didn't mean it like that," she offered, her voice showing some genuine contrition.

"That's ok." He swallowed another bite, before cautiously looking back at Artemis. "But seriously? We could be great friends."

She frowned in response. "Dad says friends make you weak, and I think he's right." _Jade was my friend_ she thought bitterly. "We can't afford to be weak Cameron, so don't waste your breath."

She didn't wait for him to choke down the chunk of PB&J going down his throat, instead returning to the archery practice his absurd question had interrupted. Picking up her bow, she notched another arrow and was barely finished aiming when she heard Cameron start to talk again. "But why-"

"No. No Friends," she interrupted with a growl. Her fingers released the arrow, and she felt comfort in the sound of the metal arrowhead embedding right into wood.

Bulls Eye.


	2. Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ages: Artemis is 10, Cameron is 11. Since I couldn't find mention of their birthdays on the wikis, I've decided Cameron's birthday is going to be September, and Artemis's will be in May, making them about a year and four months apart in age.

**Spring, 5 Years Before Team Year 1**

Cameron may have been awkward looking and he may have been socially awkward, but he was nothing if not persistent. In the months since their introduction, Artemis had made her refusal to be friends loud and clear, but it was like the cryokinetic had stuffed wads of ice in his ears. The skinny pale boy was insistent, and not in the cunning calculating way that Jade was, but a grating, irksome way that made Artemis want to break his face.

It was thoroughly annoying.

Which is why she was less than pleased when her father informed her that she would be paired up with said annoyance to work the latest "obstacle course" that he had set up with Joar. An all-nighter at that. In Gotham Central Park. With _Cameron_.

"I can do an obstacle course by myself," she had insisted to her father. She was most certainly not pouting at the time.

"Don't make that face at me baby girl," he grunted in response. "It's a simple job: I'm going to give the two of you a USB-drive. Your job is to make sure that no one, and I mean no one, takes it from you for the duration of the night. You'll have whatever supplies you can carry in your backpack."

"But I just said that I can do that myself! Why do I have to work with _him_?" she asked, spitting out the last word like it was an insult. Her dad laughed, appreciating his daughter's distaste for boys. As Jade had taught him before she ran away, that phase would dissipate with time. Rapidly.

"Because baby girl, you need to learn how to cooperate with others in the field. You won't always be able to do everything on your own."

"Don't you always say you can't trust anyone but yourself in the field?"

Lawrence peeked down at his daughter's inquisitive eyes. Her face was still scrunched up in a frown, as if he had been denying her candy at the checkout, and he resisted the urge to chuckle. "Another reason why you're paired up is you need to learn how to work with others. It'll teach you just how much to trust others, and how much not to. Now grab your gear. We're meeting Joar and his boy at the park in an hour."

His voice didn't have the usual hostility it did when she questioned his orders, but it was firm enough that Artemis knew there was no wiggle room here. She stomped off to her room to find her backpack and start filling it out with the various "essentials" she would need for the night, grumbling to herself about the idiocy of it all. She told herself she should have known better than to waste any time questioning the pairing.

Her father's commands were never really negotiable anyway.

…

The exercise had started out easy enough: Her and Cameron had weaved through the park with relative ease, starting from the East end and going Southwest in a zig-zag pattern. They'd been able to ID the "hostiles" they were supposed to elude rather easily. While the park was normally scattered with gruff, hoodlum looking thug-types, the ones they were avoided had an extra air of thuggery to them and were trying a bit too hard to be inconspicuous. The fact that they kept their heads on a swivel, as if to look for something, but weren't selling drugs and moved too well to be high made them stick out like sore thumbs.

They didn't just stick out to her either.

 _Honestly, dad needs to invest more money in actors_ she thought, smiling as one of them was cuffed by a park officer for "suspicious behavior." Gotham cops had a nasty habit of making assumptions first and finding out facts later. Assuming they weren't taking a payoff. Or being generally incompetent. Probably something about all their nasty villains messing with their heads. Still, she didn't feel bad for them. Cops had arrested her mother. And put a bullet in her spine.

With the goons failing to show any signs of competency by midnight, she told Cameron to buzz off.

"You're slowing me down. The two of us are more conspicuous-" she sounded out the last word like _kon-spick-uuuu-ayus_ , and while she knew she hadn't pronounced it right, she was trying to sound older than her partner "-together. We can do better if we separate."

"But our dads told us to stick together!" he protested.

"And if you don't mess up, they'll never know we split. Meet up with me at 4:30 by the tree shaped like a giraffe," she ordered, trying to sound like her dad earlier. "Just make sure you don't get followed. And I keep the USB drive." She patted over the hidden pocket in her denim jacket possessively.

"I'm not taking orders from a ten year old girl," Cameron insisted, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at her. Frost started to appear around his feet, something she knew was a surefire tell that he was getting frustrated.

 _Dear God is this joker pouting?_ Unbeknownst to her, Cameron was looking at her thinking the same thing.

"Because you're such a man at a whopping 11 years old?! Now stop whining and listen to my instructions you idiot!" she hissed.

Cameron glared at her, itching to respond with another insult, but he realized that this was a stupid argument that he probably wouldn't win. "Suit yourself," he grumbled.

With Cameron gone and Artemis finally able to be properly stealthy, it was smooth sailing for her over the next few hours. In fact, the longer the night dragged on, the more boring it got. The goons she was supposed to evade started to appear less and less frequently, and if she was being honest, she was kind of regretting sending Cameron away. At the very least she could have stayed awake by making fun of the guy.

At some point Gotham's permanent cloud cover had seemingly dissipated, replaced by the abnormal beauty of the moon shining bright through the night. Artemis kept shooting glances its way as she moved through the park, resting near bushes and sticking to the shadows the moonlight provided.

_Mom loved watching the moon._

The thought was sudden, intrusive, and painful. She shoved it back wherever it came from, but it had drained her energy. Looking for a place to rest, Artemis climbed her way up a tree, settling on a hefty looking branch that wasn't too high up, but had enough leaves to obscure her from anyone who wasn't very close. From her vantage point, in the middle of the park with the moonlight touching everything and the skyline in the background, Gotham actually looked beautiful. Peaceful. It was inviting her to rest. Adding weight to her already heavy eyelids.

_Just gonna… close my eyes…for a few minutes…_

She knew she had messed up the second she felt the large hand grab her ankle. Eyes flying wide open, she instinctively kicked forward, her combat boot making a sickening noise as it made contact with someone's face. Someone's nose, and maybe their jaw, was either broken or very dislocated. Whoever it was let out a deep-throated squawk and fell from the tree, the sound of branches breaking and leaves rustling followed by a large thud.

Unfortunately for her, Artemis wasn't far behind, as she lost her footing and fell out of the tree as well. Her combat instincts took over, and she oriented herself to land on her feet ready for a fight. She hadn't been high up enough in the tree for the fall to be too dangerous, but it also meant she didn't have time to orient herself properly.

When she landed she put too much weight on her left ankle, pain jolting through it immediately. Stifling a scream that would alert others to the presence of a child in the park, she took inventory of the injured man on the ground beside her. Looking at his clothes, extremely disheveled appearance, and the wretched stench emanating from him, it was fair to assume that he was probably one of the many park vagrants. He was writhing in pain, clutching his shoulder which was maybe but not definitely broken, and muttering a string of slurred profanities as blood dripped down from his noise.

 _Ugh. Gross._ She tried to not to think why a forty-something year old looking homeless dude was trying to pull down a ten year old girl from a tree park at…she glanced at her wristwatch… _4:15 a.m in the morning? Crap Crap Crap._

Her meeting place with Cameron was on the other side of the park, and from the rapid jolts of pain moving up her left leg, she realized that she may possibly have a sprained ankle. Which meant there was no way she was going to make it to the meeting in time.

She made it about a hundred yards before she felt a hand on her shoulder and turned around with her fist cocked and flying. It made contact with an icy forearm, and the yelp of pain was far too familiar. It had just the right mix of whining and prepubescent pitch.

"Ow-Calm down! It's me!" claimed the voice that was unmistakably Cameron.

"What the hell?! You're supposed to be at our meeting spot."

"So are you!"

"What are you even doing here?"

"I was following you, duh," he answered like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"What?" _He followed me without me noticing? Dad would be so pissed._

Cameron frowned and crossed his arms over his chest. "You're not the only one trained in stealth you know."

"Really? If you were following me this whole time, where were you when that _creep_ was trying to grab me a few minutes ago?!"

"I was a few seconds away from getting his creepy butt when you kicked him in the face. And then fell out of a tree." He emphasized the last sentence for dramatic effect.

"He pulled me out!" she lied, attempting to defend herself.

"That's not what it looked like from where I was standing. And I think you sprained your ankle."

"I'm fine." Another lie, this one betrayed by the visible wince on her face when she moved her foot and that throbbing pain returned.

"You're a bad liar," Cameron observed. "Here," he motioned for her to take a sit against the tree they were hiding near. When she complied, he took her shoe and sock off and held his hands to the injured ankle and formed a thin layer of ice around it using his powers.

Artemis clenched her teeth and let out an exhale at the sensation. Beside her, Cameron pulled out his backpack and reached into it for some medical bandages to wrap around a new piece of ice to create a makeshift icepack. He dissipated the layer he previously put on her ankle, wrapping the new makeshift ice-pack around her ankle and the back of her foot.

 _At least one of us thought to bring medical equipment_ she thought. She'd mostly brought a knife, some shurikens Jade left behind, a flashbang that her dad let her bring, and some food that she'd long since consumed.

"There, that should be good enough 'til you get home," Cameron said, putting the finishing touches on his homemade ice-pack wrap. "Now, we gotta get going. I found a spot earlier that we can hole up in for the last few hours with a good vantage point. It'll give us plenty of time to escape if we see anybody coming for us."

He helped Artemis to her feet, supporting her weight by letting her lean on him. She couldn't help but be a little surprised by the lack of insults and gruffness from him throughout this entire interaction. If the roles were reversed, she would have been livid.

"Why are you helping me? We almost lost because of me," she asked.

He gave a quizzical look, as if the answer was painfully obvious. "Because we're paired, which means you messing up is me messing up. And you need help. And I'm right here." He gave small gaps in between each sentence, as if to give her time to understand what he was saying. Like she was some little kid.

"I don't need anyone's help!" she replied, sounding just a tad bit poutish.

"Ok, well then I want to give it to you, so just take it."

She let that answer stew in her brain as she moved through the shadows with him. "You're annoying, you know that?"

Cameron cracked a smile. "You know, you're not the most fun person in the world either blondie?"

"Don't call me that."

"Whatever you say Rapunzel."

Later, when they were holed up in his hiding spot, the sun peeking over the horizon signaling their imminent victory, a sudden realization hit her.

"Yes," she said aloud, unprompted.

"Yes what?" asked Cameron, holding back a yawn.

"Yes, let's be friends."

She spent the rest of the time waiting for their dads thinking that if he didn't get rid of that stupid smile, he'd break his face before she ever got the chance to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so a friendship is born. Yea it's a bit cheesy but she's 10 and he's 11. I figure they don't much of a complex, emotionally charged arc to get the ball rolling on being friends.


	3. Competition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cameron & Artemis get along. In their own, Gotham children way.

**Late Spring, 4 Years Before Team Year 1**

Artemis & Cameron hit it off quickly, and if either of their parents had cared beyond not having to hear complaints, they would have understood why: They were around the same age, being trained in more or less the same particular set of skills. Both children dearly missed their mothers – Artemis's was in Jail, Cameron's dead from childbirth – even if they didn't like to speak about it. Both had issues with their father, something they were much more willing to discuss with each other.

But honestly, the main catalyst of how fast their friendship developed was the escalating amount of time they had to spend with each other. It started out with occasional training exercises set up by their dads.

Those then increased in frequency and started to include being brought along to observe simple jobs. Drops, pick pocketing, casing, and light surveillance.

Then when Joar got an apartment in the same ratty neighborhood, because it was "more convenient" than his apartment in the ratty neighborhood twenty minutes away, they ended up enrolled in the same school.

As soon as their fathers trusted their ability to work together without any major conflicts, they started to leave them alone together while they went on missions. Especially if they were planning to be gone overnight, because sure, they were criminals, but they were also fathers as well. And as beacons of parental excellence in the criminal underworld, they quickly deduced that while a Gotham creep may get the jump on one of their kids, the two kids together had about 20 years of life in them. They should be able to hold their own.

And going back to the original point, if the kids got along in the process? Even better. Less whining they'd have to deal with.

And people said criminals couldn't be good parents.

...

Artemis plopped down on her living room couch, bowl of overly buttered popcorn plopped her lap with one hand while the other reached aggressively for the remote. Her long ponytail barely had time to finish flailing over the the couch before Cameron started digging into the bowl. Crude 12 year old he was, he chose to take that exact moment to also whine about his suddenly remote-less hand.

"You, mmph, chant cheal my gremote!"

"My house, my remote!" Artemis claimed triumphantly, avoided the flecks of popcorn that were flying out of his mouth. She flipped through the channels of the outdated, far-too-thick-TV that occupied her living room until she landed on their favorite late night channel: Whatever inappropriate adult cartoon was playing that night. The current show was currently in the midst of a scene hypersexualizing the female protagonist to a comical level. Which meant...

She glanced to her left, and her suspicions were immediately confirmed: Cameron's eyes were glued to the scene like his life depended on it. Sigh. This meant his attention span was going to be shot, right when she wanted to get his opinion on something.

"So," Artemis said in between mouthfuls of popcorn, "I've decided that I'm going to focus on archery."

"Mhmm," he replied, clearly not paying attention to her. Nevertheless, she persisted.

"Yea you know, I just think that it would be good to focus on one skill and be really great at it."

"Yup." His eyes moved with the rhythm of the female character's feminine figure, not registering the words coming into his ear or leaving his mouth. Of course, his hand was still more than capable of reaching for another greedy handful of popcorn.

"I kissed Tommy from 3rd hour yesterday."

That seemed to do it, as he immediately started choking on his mouthful of buttered goodness and went just a little bug eyed.

"Ffm-Wha?" he asked, coughing out more popcorn kernels. Tommy from 3rd Hour was not someone Cameron was fond of, and it was only partially because he got some of the other kids at school to start calling him "Kimeron". Whatever the hell that meant.

"Oh so now you're paying attention!" Artemis huffed, just as the show went to commercial.

"I was trying to watch the show!"

"Staring harder at her boobs won't make them appear in real life!"

"I wasn't staring at them!"

"Right. You were just observing them for scientific purposes."

"Exactly!"

"Argh!" she huffed, turning her head away from him fast enough to cause her ponytail to whiplash across his face, depositing a few strands of blonde hair along his mouth.

"Pfft! Ptoo! You should, ptoo, be more careful with that thing. Pfthu. It's basically a weapon!" he groused, spitting out the strands that had gotten into his mouth.

She crossed her arms and turned back to him to shoot him a mean glare, which he merely shrugged off like he was used to seeing it. Because, to be fair, he absolutely was.

"Soooo," he drawled, no longer occupied by the seductress of the TV or the hair in his mouth, "What were you saying?"

"I was saying," she started, still glaring at him, "That I want to commit to archery. Become super good at it. Like Green Arrow but less of a Robin Hood dweeb." She added the last insult to hide any hint that she looked up to the man in anyway. Between his whole "archer-in-the-21st-century" shtick and reputation as an annoying blabbermouth even for a cape, being a Green Arrow fan certainly not socially acceptable in their circles. Superman? Lame but forgivable. Batman? Dark enough to be respectable. But Green Arrow? Ugh.

Not that she cared about anyone's opinions anyway.

"Wait, all these hours upon hours of archery training was you being non-committal?" asked Cameron, every word dripping with sarcasm.

"Archery takes a lot of skill, unlike throwing bricks of ice," she shot back.

"Says the girl who can chill someone with just a look." And so began the favorite tradition of the two not-quite-teenagers: Childish teasing disguised as witty banter.

"Funny," she began, glaring at him "Because I'm trying to turn you to an ice block and it's not working."

"My core is already cold just from being next to you. Besides, let's talk 'bout what this whole archer thing is really about." He learned closer towards Artemis and tried his best to make his voice sound ominous. "The deep dark secret you don't want to admit to yourself or your dad."

"And what's that?" she asked, not backing up a single inch. She was strongly resisting the urge to headbutt him just for the fun of it.

"You got tired of me kicking your butt in sparring."

"What?!" she shrieked incredulously.

"Admit it, you've been pretty suck-ish these last few weeks," he continued, a taunting edge to his voice.

"I had bruised ribs!" she practically shouted, incensed that someone was actually questioning her sparring capabilities. She knew better than to let him rile her up, but she couldn't help herself and they both knew it.

So the gloating continued. "All I hear are excuses for your all around suck-ish-ness-ism these last two weeks. And your face when you hit the ground that last session? Oh man, I wish I took a picture."

"Frosty, you won like, three more sparring matches than me. While I had bruised ribs!"

"They were the three that our dads were watching, so really the only ones that count." Here his taunts were reinforced by the truth. "And Frosty? That a new one."

"I like to be consistent with my nicknames, unlike you! Because you're too stupid for that!"

"It's not my fault you give me so much to work with. I mean Blondie, Rapunzel, Alice, Arty, Art, A-mis, A-dawg, A-hole, Butt-Ugly-" he listed in a sing song voice.

"Now you're not even trying!"

"I'm going easy on you since you're a girl."

"Is that your excuse? You barely beat me in sparring when I was injured. What's your excuse for sucking at everything else?"

"Sucking?" Cameron feigned offense. "I wasn't aware I _sucked_ at everything compared to the mighty Artemis."

"You do, and I dare you to prove me wrong."

Cameron gasped in faux shock. "You dare me?" He put one hand over his chest and the other on his forehead, leaning back dramatically.

"I _triple dare you!_ " she asserted, and Cameron switched from a look of fake shock to genuine glee.

Those were fighting words.

"Well for starters, I'm better than you at chess," he answered, holding up a finger as if to start a tally.

"You mean checkers? You've never played chess." True, because he'd said as much when she tried to play chess with him and then refused to learn the rules of the game.

"Well then I'm better than you at checkers." He added a second figure, as if his list was somehow growing.

"No you're not, you're just a cheat." Untrue, but she wasn't going to give him any points.

"I'm better than you at poker." Three fingers now.

"You're an even bigger cheat at that." This was true, and he'd almost started a food fight at lunch _literally yesterday_ because of said cheating. 6th Graders were no longer allowed to play cards of any sort at lunch for the rest of the school year.

"Better than you at hide-and-seek." Four fingers.

"Only in the winter when you cheat with your powers!" Also true.

"I'm even a better cook than you!" Five fingers. The truth of this last claim was very debatable.

"Making good sandwiches doesn't count as cooking! And your mac and cheese. Is. NOT. Better than mine!"

"A) It does, and B) Yes it is. I'm also better at guessing TV show plots." He brought his second hand into play for the sixth finger. "And look, that's _six_ whole different things I'm better than you at in like ten seconds!"

"The only skill you have is the amount of bull-crap you can make up on the spot!"

Cameron feigned surprise, again. "Oh my! That's a seventh thing to add to the list! Just admit it Artemis, my superiority has cowed you in to picking a long-range skill! I could be better than you at in half the time."

Artemis jumped to her feet, almost knocking over the bowl of popcorn. Hands defiantly on her hips, she narrowed her eyes at Cameron. "You couldn't shoot an arrow at a target if I loaded the bow for you and pointed it at the boobs of Ms. Winnow from homeroom."

"Alright," Cameron raised his hands in a pacifying manner, "I can tell you're emotionally distressed right now, so I'll let you have archery."

"Lemme have what?! I'm better than you at literally everything that can be made into a competition!"

"I'm sorry, but the facts say otherwise."

"Alrigh, fine! Fine!" she threw her hands up in frustration. "Pick something, anything, and I'll wipe your stupid little grin off your face and all over this carpet."

"Oh really? Anything?"

"Anything!"

…

An hour and a half later, the stench of paprika, fish sticks, and tomato sauce lingered in the air. Several dirty paper plates scattered the living room floor, with various condiments and half eaten sandwiches spread across them. In one corner there was an empty liter bottle of root beer. In the other, a half empty pint of milk. One single stick of butter, untouched, lay in the center of the room.

The two kids lay on opposite ends of the couch, clutching their stomachs in pain. Further evidence of their crimes lay smudged across their faces, which still had traces of the unholy food combinations they had tried. What they had done was an unspeakable crime against taste buds, only emphasized by the lingering stench mixing in with the palpable shame.

Artemis's stomach made a distressed noise and she groaned in regret. "You know what Cam, I take it back. You are better than me at _this._ "

"See?" He burped and then grimaced at the flurry of nauseating flavors it brought to his mouth. "The truth will set you free."

She pinched her nose shut and gagged when she got a whiff of his breath. "Ugh."

"So, uh, focusing on archery huh?" Cameron asked, his eyes just a little watery from his own breath.

"Yup."

"You'll be great at it."

"Oh I know."

Then, as if to mock them both, both of their stomachs gurgled with vigor, causing them to clutch over in pain again.

"Put a muzzle on that thing," whined Artemis.

"You first A-mis."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG, preteens getting into arguments over nothing and then making bad choices when left unsupervised. Who could have guessed?


	4. Awkward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cameron has to go on a late night shopping trip for Artemis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This idea hit me randomly and I couldn't stop giggling at it, so I wrote it down. It seemed funnier in my head, but it was still worth writing.
> 
> Ages: Artemis is 12, Cameron is 13

**Spring, 3 Years Before Team Year 1**

Cameron stood in the aisle of the dinghy neighborhood drugstore with $15 in his pocket and three things on his shopping list. The first two, an absurdly large jar of peanut butter & jelly mix and a loaf of the yummiest processed white bread he could find, were already tucked under his arm. The last and by far most pressing item, the whole reason he was even at the drugstore at this ungodly hour of the night, had yet to be purchased.

Because quite frankly, Cameron did not feel properly equipped to be making this purchase.

But Artemis was waiting for him back at her apartment and she was likely counting down every second that he was gone. Their fathers were on another one of their missions and wouldn't be back for another two days. Despite her best efforts to hide it, he was always able to tell that she got anxious waiting for her dad. With how often their parents came back sporting new cuts and bruises (her Dad more than his since, you know, ice-powers), he couldn't really blame her.

Maybe some cheesepuffs would take the edge off...

_Focus Cameron. FOCUS_ he screamed inwardly, steeling himself back to the task at hand.

Right, item #3. Well, that was definitely going to be a tricky one. For starters, he'd never bought one of these before and there were so many options that it didn't make sense. How was he supposed to know which one of these to get? Were some fluffier than others? Did that make a difference? Did that even make sense in this context? Were they more comfortable? Was comfort important? Was comfort even an option?!

_They really should teach us this stuff in school._

Honestly, it felt like they didn't teach them anything important in school. All the real-world application stuff he knew – picking locks, losing a tail, how to get a fake ID – he learned outside of the confines of that brick prison. What he did learn inside school seemed to only take up brain-space that could be going to more important things. Some days Cameron wondered to himself if those rich brats at Gotham Academy actually got a better education, or just a more expensive version of the garbage he was learning. One of these days he was going to have to go check it out for himself.

_Mental note to self: Convince Artemis to play hooky and go spy on those Gotham Academy brats._

Shit, Artemis. Right. _Focus_.

He forced himself to start narrowing down his selection from the dozen plus choices in front of him. He starting by ruling out the pricier options – the $15 he had was kind of a limiting factor – and then from there he started ruling out any of the ones that had pictures of a guy on them. He didn't know much about this, but he figured if a company thought it was a good idea to put a guy's face on the packaging, their product was probably garbage.

After staring at the options for almost ten minutes, he forced himself to make a choice for the sake of expediency and to avoid becoming a shoplifting suspect. Looking over the options one last time, he settled for the one with a generic label with an athletic-ish silhouette on the cover. It was also the only one he could afford to buy and still have leftover money for candy as these things were somehow both way more expensive and much cheaper than he would have assumed.

Because again, he had no idea what to expect.

He approached the cashier with the three items in hand, stopping briefly to select a few dollar chocolate bars before dumping everything on the counter. Artemis wasn't the biggest fan of chocolate, but it was something that he always saw in the movies so he figured it might come in handy.

The cashier was a greasy haired, scrawny college kid who looked extremely uninterested in working or paying much attention to the abnormally pale teenager standing in front of him at 1 a.m in the morning. He'd worked this particular register since his sophmore year of high school, and like a true Gothamite, anything short of armed robbery didn't faze him. Even then, it depended on just how unhinged the robber looked.

Of course, Cameron didn't know this, so when he got to item #3, he felt the need to justify his purchase.

"Uh, these are for a friend," he said, trying and failing to suppress the rosy tint creeping up his neck.

"Uh huh," replied the cashier, not even looking up from his phone as he scanned the items through.

"I mean, it's totally normal to grab that for a friend," Cameron continued, mistaking the cashier's disinterest for disbelief.

"Sure."

"It's very progressive actually. You know it's the 21st century. This isn't weird at all."

"Would you like a receipt?" asked the cashier, Cameron's words never registering in his preoccupied mind.

"No thanks."

He speed walked back to the apartment: At this hour in this neighborhood of Gotham it was unwise to move slowly unless you were looking to attract trouble. Running was equally unwise, because it showed you were either scared or guilty of something, and either possibility attracted unwanted attention.

Reaching the apartment complex in a matter of a few minutes, he went around to the alley towards the fire escape that led up to Artemis's room. Neighbors had a nosy way of noticing if teenagers kept coming and going through the front door of an apartment without adults present, so the two tended to avoid being seen when their parents were out of town. That didn't make Cameron feel any better about dodging the alley rats and intoxicated hobo sleeping in the alley, or having to use his ice powers to fill in several broken steps up the fire escape ladder because Artemis was paranoid and her landlord was too cheap to fix the damage she left.

After a few minutes of silent grumbling to himself, he managed to squeeze his way into the window he had left slightly open for himself, get his foot caught on the windowsill, and trip face first onto the floor, just barely missing the array of arrows Artemis had left out for cleaning.

Getting up, he silently thanked _The B_ _ig Man_ for sparing his handsome good looks and then made his way down the hallway to the bathroom, plastic bag in hand. Reaching the bathroom door, he knocked gingerly.

"I uh, I got the thing."

"What took you to so long?" came the bitter answer. _Yup_ , he thought, _I knew he should have spent less time making the choice._

The door cracked open and Artemis's hand peeked out. He placed item #3 in her hand and she closed the door quickly behind him.

"Thank you," she said from the other side of the door, the sound of packaging ripping loudly rippling through the door.

Cameron stood outside awkwardly for a few moments before deciding that standing outside was more creepy than supportive. _Am I supposed to be supportive? Is that even a thing?_

More questions he was ill-equipped to answer, and too scared to search up on the internet.

So instead he moseyed his way to the kitchen, deciding to make use of the food he got from the drugstore. With only the internet and his boredom as teachers, his cooking repertoire was very limited, but he could make a mean peanut better and jelly sandwich: The perfect peanut butter to jelly ratio, with the bread de-crusted and cut into perfect little triangles. People who cut their sandwiches down the middle instead of triangles were monsters, and deserved to be locked in Arkham.

A few minutes of furious sandwich-making later, he arranged the dozen or so triangle sandwiches onto a large plate, washed the few dishes he used, and plopped himself and the plate down on the couch in the living room. The TV was playing late night cartoon re-runs, as usual, and besides it there was a stack of movies they'd checked out from the library, most of which were long overdue. They'd watched each movie at least twice and chances are they would be watching one a third time tonight. Having no particular preference, he just picked a random one and put it in the DVD player.

Soon after, Artemis came out and made her way to where Cameron was sitting, eyeing the plate of perfectly cut PB&J triangles the way a tiger eyes its prey. Sitting down on the dinghy couch next to him, she wolfed one down and had her hand on a second one before finishing the first. Her eyes were glued to the TV, and for a few minutes there was nothing but the sound of the two munching on PB&J sandwiches while some cartoon characters died in a blaze of explosions.

"It's totally normal," Cameron said, breaking the silence.

"Let's not talk about it."

"We learned about it in school."

"No really, let's not ever talk about it," Artemis repeated with more assertiveness.

"It's just biology if you think about it."

"I'm not thinking about it, and _you_ better not be."

Cameron craned his neck at her and then grinned, and Artemis immediately recognized it as his _I'm going to piss Artemis off_ grin. "It's a beautiful moment, really," he started. "You go from being a girl to being a young woman. Guys basically go through the same thing in slow motion, and it's a lot less poetic. And we don't have to buy tampons which, mind you, are not as easy as you think."

"Are you trying to guy-splain this to me? Because I will beat you."

"I'm just saying, I'm very proud to have been involved in this watershed moment in your life," Cameron continued in jest.

"I will beat you right now, on this couch. Very violently," she repeated, her threat very sincere.

"Alright alright," he caved, putting his hands up in surrender.

"Good. What's this?" she asked, gesturing towards the chocolate bars haphazardly strewn on the couch cushion between them.

"I, uh, though it would make you feel better," Cameron replied, looking just a bit sheepish.

Artemis let out her snort-laugh. "You can't believe everything you see in movies. Besides, ya know I'm not a chocolate person."

"Yeah I do, which is why I made sure to grab a bar I would enjoy when you said no," he replied, reaching for some of the chocolate himself. "It's the thought that counts," he managed to garble in between mouthfuls. Artemis just rolled her eyes and went back to watching the movie.

...

"Cam?" she asked as the movie credits rolled.

"Yea?"

"If you ever talk about this again, to me or to anyone else, I'll cut your balls off and shove them up your nostrils." [1]

"Well...ok then..."

A few more seconds passed, before Cam looked at her with another mischievous grin.

"But...if you cut my balls off, technically I'd be bleeding from down there too-OWWWW! I was just-OUCH-JOKING!"

If any of the neighbors heard the sounds of fists connecting with flesh, or the muffled yelps of an indignant 13 year old boy, they ignored it. If Lady Gotham was claiming another victim under the shroud of darkness, it certainly wasn't their place to interfere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1]Ahahahahah this is an easter egg to a standalone fic I wrote called Ice Packs & Chicken Soup. It can be considered vaguely canon with this storyline. Feel free to check it out!
> 
> Leave a kudos/comment to feed my soul!


	5. Frostbite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The origin of the nickname Frostbite.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't remember if Frostbite is just the ship name or if I saw it in a fanfic somewhere or if showed up in the YJ universe canonically, and instead of making a quick google search, I wrote a whole fluff-y-ish chapter on it.
> 
> Ages: Artemis is 13, Cameron is 14. Yea I know, another year skipped ahead, but I wrote more fics for when they were in the 13-16 year range.

**Summer, 2 Years Before Team Year 1**

"That's got to be the dumbest nickname I've ever heard!" Cameron exclaimed incredulously, ignoring the puberty-fueled crack in his voice mid-sentence.

Across the park table from him, Artemis licked her ice cream contently. "It suits you just perfectly."

"It's absolutely lame!"

She shot him a smug look, over her double scoop of mint chocolate chip ice cream. "Says the guy who willingly gave himself the alias Icicle Junior."

"For the millionth time, _I_ didn't pick that name!" he whined. "Friggin Professor Ojo told everyone that's what I'm called, all because I accidentally froze one measly million-dollar vase. Pretty childish of him."

It was actually a $10 Million vase, and he had deliberately frozen and smashed it to tiny bits on pieces as part of sabotage op his father had sent him on. Something about make Ojo desperate enough to do a job for someone else. He knew that it had worked in the end, because his father gave him a rare pat of approval, but Ojo had made some pretty explicit threats about what would happen to "Icicle Junior" if he ever saw the boy again. [1]

"Aaaand you just rolled with it?" asked Artemis sarcastically, not a hint of sympathy in her voice.

"Nothing I could do to fight it! Besides, you're not one to talk Ms. _'Sportsmaster's girl'_." He added air quotes around the last two words for emphasis.

Artemis rolled her eyes at that, a retort already coming off her lips. "I'll take a shiv to the gut before anyone ever calls me Sportsmaster _junior._ " She took some solace in the idea that her dad would never risk her mother's wrath by letting her have suck a stupid name.

"Yea well sooner or later you'll have to deal with the other jackasses as much as I do. Your better have your own alias by then, or they'll give you one."

They both knew he was right. True, it was one of the more vain aspects of the life they were headed to, but a wrong alias could make your life in the criminal underworld that much worse. You only had to look as far The Riddler to see that.

"I already do. When the time comes, I'll be Tigress," she said confidently. She'd decided on the name a long time ago, but this was her first time saying the declaration out loud. She also noticed that she had said "when", not "if", because despite her father's blatant insistence, Artemis was not very keen on plunging straight into The Life. Not when her mother was in prison, practically begging her to stay far away from crime with every letter she wrote.

"Sounds like a stripper name," Cameron snickered, breaking her from her reverie.

"It's something my mom used to call me when I was little," she responded tersely. The same mother who would be disappointed beyond belief if she left prison to find her youngest daughter officially a criminal. Who was already worried sick wondering what Jade was up to since she had left.

"Oh." _Way to go there Cam_ he mentally chided himself. They usually avoided discussing their mothers for different, but almost all universally painful, reasons. They certainly didn't talk about them during a nice day in the park where ice cream was involved.

"Well, we're getting distracted from the point," he said, changing the conversation. "Which is that your nickname skills are trash."

"Why?" she arched an eyebrow. "Frostbite suits you just right. Your both cold and hard to get rid of. If someone is exposed to you for too long, they'll have to amputate their parts of their body exposed to you before they literally rot."

"Frostbite? Where is the creativity? The imagination? The inspiration!?" he demanded, flailing his arms around with so much flair he almost knocked over his jumbo vanilla fudge infused ice cream monstrosity. Behind him, Artemis saw a mom give them a dirty look as she escorted her children away from their table.

Artemis snorted. "Because you put all that into the nicknames you come up with for me?"

Cameron gave her a look of mock offense. "I put effort into each and every single nickname I bestow upon you."

"Bestow? What are you, some sort of Prince of Nicknames?"

"I am a man of many talents," he responded smugly.

"Really? Blondie is your idea of effort and talent? Or Rapunzel? Kids in my elementary class came up with more creative nicknames."

"Those nicknames match your personality perfectly."

"Blondie is literally based on a physical characteristic, nothing to do with my personality."

"I disagree, your blonde hair is an integral part of who you are. It explains all of your uh…" he motioned vaguely in her direction "…blondness."

"Wooowww," Artemis said, rolling her eyes. "It's as if Shakespeare himself is speaking in front of me. And tell me, in what way does Rapunzel match my personality?"

"Well you have long hair and you pretty much live in a tower of stupid decisions. I'm obviously the Prince Charming, always riding just in time to save you."

"There are so many things wrong with that. For starters, you are no Prince Charming."

"I agree! I think Jack Frost is more my style."

Artemis groaned, putting her hands on her temple. "Not this BS again. Jack Frost is actually kind of cute."

"I'm kind of cute too!" he argued. It would have been a much more convincing statement if he wasn't also wiping mounds of melted ice cream from his finger and chin.

"Says who? Your reflection?"

"I have a six pack!"

"Only in your dreams! You know who has a real six pack? Tyler Hapler from 5th hour. And arms to match," she mocked, adding a dreamy grin at the mention of said boy.

"Ew, and Ew. Arms are overrated."

"You say this because you have stick arms. If you had real arms like _Speedy-_ "

"Here we go again, you and your stupid archer sidekick crush-" grumbled Cameron

"-You would always be flexing them! But you can't, because you have itty bitty stick arms. Like a popsicle stick," she finished, ignoring his interruption.

"Do not!"

"Whatever you say, _Frostbite_."

"For the record, I am officially protesting this nickname."

Artemis shot him her sweetest, most innocent looking smile and answered: "Sorry, I can't take complaints this high up in my tower."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heheh, did y'all peep the Season 3 Tigress Easter Egg I plopped in? Anyway this chapter was fun to write, but next chapter will not be fluffy. Ye have been warned.
> 
> [1]In the season 1 episode Terrors, Professor Ojo sees Cameron in prison and alludes to some bad history. Something about killing him if he ever saw him again, but the fight is broken up by Conner & M'gann before they ever explained what happened, so I felt like sneaking it in.


	6. Unjust Punishment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Artemis gets a front row view for how Icicle Sr. doles out punishment. TW for physical/emotional child abuse depicted in this chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lmao my entire proofreading process is writing a chapter and then looking at it a week later, adding like 600 words, and praying I didn't leave too many typos. 
> 
> Ages: Artemis is 13, Cameron 14

**Late Summer, 2 Years Before Team Year 1**

Artemis stared grimly at her shoelaces, doing her best to ignore the harrowing scene in front of her.

"Idiotic!" A violent _wh_ _ack_ signified the sound of flesh hitting flesh. She reflexively winced at the sound, trying to ignore the restrained gasp of pain that followed it.

They'd - no, _she'd -_ messed up, big time. It was all her fault, and now Cameron was paying the price.

"Pathetic!" _Thump._

They'd been given a simple task: Sit on one of Sportsmaster's safe-houses and keep guard over the package when it was delivered to them. Their fathers would come by to pick it up a few hours after it was dropped off, and then the kids would be left to their own devices for the rest of the night. Sure enough, two men clad in ninja-like garb off a package for them right on time. Except the package was an unconscious man, bound & gagged with noticeable bruises littering his face. The ninjas told them nothing other than to keep guard over the man.

_"Don't talk to him, don't untie him, don't let him leave your watch. Just watch."_

Frankly, it was the easiest job they'd had in weeks. Until the man woke up.

"Look up baby girl. You need to watch this," her dad ordered, yanking her head up and forcing her to watch the events in front of her.

Cameron lay on the ground, clutching the side of his face that had just been hit. Tears threatened to escape his eyes and Artemis could tell from his face that he was holding back a sob. She also knew there was no way he was going to cry, not in front of her, and especially not with their dads present.

His father chose that moment to stomp down cruelly on his son's leg, causing Cameron to yelp in pain. "Failure," he spat, following the insult with a sickening kick to the ribs. Artemis instinctively moved forward, but her dad placed a firm, almost painful grip on her shoulder, keeping her rooted in place. Because watching was her punishment.

He had warned her. He _told her_ that it was a bad idea to ignore their orders and take off the prisoner's gag. He had practically bitten her head off when she started giving the man food and water, but she saw the fear he was hiding under his harsh bluster, and ignored him. He warned her to re-gag him, but she had insisted that there was no harm in letting the man breathe. The safehouse was in a run-down, mostly deserted building in Crime Alley of all places. If anyone heard the man scream, they would ignore it, just like they did with all the other crime that permeated the area. _"No harm no foul,"_ she joked.

She was wrong.

Artemis flinched as Senior picked up his son roughly by his hair and smacked him across the face. "There is no room for error in this work!" he yelled, and she wondered to herself if their neighbors had heard this before, or if this really was his on the spot idea of a worthy punishment for a mistake.

Except there had been no mistake on their part. Not really. Once he was un-gagged and realized he was being guarded by two teenagers who were kind enough to think he shouldn't die of dehydration or hunger, the man had started talking to them. Talking about his two daughters who were still in elementary school. About his beautiful wife who thought he was still on a work conference. And his mom who was widowed last year after his dad died from dementia. The guy started begging them, telling them that he didn't want to die. That he'd just been in the wrong place at the wrong time. That he needed to go get his family to safety, because there was a good chance he was going be killed, and then they would be too.

He passed their very stringent, Gotham-bred BS meter, if only because every word he spoke was permeated with pure panic. So they did the unthinkable: They let a prisoner go. Or rather, she let the prisoner go over Cameron's loud, repeated warnings about how this would come back to bite them in the ass.

_"Don't worry, I'll think of something"_ she'd said with absolute confidence.

When their parents came back earlier than they had expected, immediately furious about the escaped prisoner, she started tripping over her planned story and Cameron covered for her. He took full responsibility for the incident. Claimed that he had loosened the restraints on the prisoner to let him use the bathroom and got taken by surprise.

Their fathers had been livid, leaving immediately to find the "escaped" prisoner and banishing the children back to the Mahkent apartment until further notice. When they failed to catch him, or apparently his family, someone had to be held accountable for the dozens of hours of gruntwork down the drain, and the ruined payday.

And that's when Joar had decided to make an example out of his son. Artemis knew it wasn't the first time he beat his son, but it was the first time she had to watch. Standing there, taking in the full brunt of the abuse taking place before her, she realized that Cameron had been grossly underselling the extent of his father's brutality.

"Are you whimpering boy?" the older man taunted in between blows. "You gonna let yourself cry in front of the little girl? Do you have that little manhood in you?"

He kicked his son in the ribs again and Artemis swore she heard bones crack. Bile gurgled up her throat as something more sinister curdled in her stomach, and she started to see red. _He can't do this!_ Not right in front of her.

"You need to stop! You're hurting him!" she yelled out. Cameron gave her a sharp look, the first time throughout the whole ordeal that he'd looked her in the eye.

_Back off_ he was saying. _Please._

"Is she right junior? Hmm? Am I _hurting_ you?" asked the older man, gripping the boy by his neck. Before Cameron could answer, he slapped him across the face.

"You bastard!" she snarled, breaking her father's grip and rushing forward. Her father grabbed her quickly, almost picking her off her feet as he pulled her back despite her snarling.

"Alright baby girl, that's enough," her father spoke, his grip on her tightening.

"Control your kid Larry," Joar barked.

"Maybe don't beat yours into the ER and I won't have to worry about my kid," Lawrence shot back. It wasn't nearly enough to be considered an intervention, but there must have been some history behind those words because the elder icicle villain paused for a moment, his fist frozen in place a few inches from colliding with Cameron's face. The pause was only momentary, but when he moved again it was to release his hold on Cameron and let him slide to the ground, instead of pummeling his face in with his fist.

Straightening himself out, Joar turned to his business partner-slash-somewhat-friend, his face full of hostility.

"Don't tell me how to raise my damn kid."

_You call this raising him?_ Artemis wanted to yell, but the words died in her throat. Cam was still staring at her, and her father was staring right back at his.

"I don't need this headache," the elder Crock declared, irritation evident in his voice. "Let's go baby girl. Clean your kid up Joar, we still have business to take care of."

"Just get the hell out of my place."

Her father obliged happily, slamming the apartment door behind them and dragging Artemis along at a rapid pace, muttering something about "damn idiot Joar" and needing to get back to the mission.

Artemis's mind was elsewhere.

"You're just going to let him keep doing that?" Artemis asked her father when they neared their apartment. Her tone was dangerously rebellious.

"I stopped him didn't I?" he responded gruffly.

"Only because I was going to! How many times have you seen him do that? How many times are you going to let him beat up Cam?!"

"He messed up. Now he has to handle the punishment." He said it as a statement of fact, not up for negotiation.

"That wasn't a punishment! That was a grown man beating a kid who wasn't even fighting! That was abuse! That was-"

"That was life baby girl," her father interrupted, trying to cut her off before she attracted anyone's attention. "Remember that the next time you think I'm being cruel."

"So," she started, her voice taking a tone that Lawrence really did not like, "If I mess up like that, you're going to do that to me? _Beat me_ until my bones break?"

Her father stopped walking and looked down at his girl with a hard expression, as if to reprimand her for asking such a brazen question. But she didn't so much as blink, instead matching his gaze, allowing him to see that there was something brewing in her grey eyes that unnerved him. Something close to defiance.

No.

_Hate._

He put both of his calloused hands on her small shoulders, brought his face down to her level, and spoke in the reassuring I'm-your-father-and-everything-is-ok voice that he somehow still had. "No baby girl. I'm not going to…I'll never do that to you."

It wasn't much, but Lawrence Crock had spent the last few years lowering the bar for good parenting as far as possible. Those few words were enough to get Artemis to keep walking back to the apartment without further complaints.

He pretended not to notice her throwing up in the bathroom when they got home.

…

She snuck into Cameron's room later that night, after their dads had gone off on another "job" to make up for the money they'd lost. She found him sitting on his bed, massaging one of his several bruises, his pale skin making each bruise look worse than it actually was. His right wrist had a compression splint on it, and while his t-shirt was as baggy as ever, she was fairly certain he'd had some of his ribs wrapped. She only hoped that her ears had been playing tricks when she thought she heard bone cracking earlier.

"Hey," she whispered softly, moving slowly to the bed.

"Hey yourself," he answered, voice shaky from stifled tears.

"Why?" she asked, taking a seat on the bed next to him. Cutting right to the chase, as usual. "Why'd you take the blame? It was my fault."

"I didn't stop you, and I'm happy I didn't." He let out a weak cough. "We don't know what they were going to do to that guy, and after all the stuff he said, we both woulda had nightmares for days if we didn't let him go."

"You should have let me think of something!"

He gave her a lopsided grin, and she pretended not to notice the slight grimace that followed. "Sorry blondie, but thinking isn't exactly your strongest suit."

She ignored the insult and traced her fingers across his bruised arm. "Are you ok?"

He pulled his arm away and laid down on the bed, positioning his face away from her. "S'nothing blondie."

"He can't treat you like this," she whispered.

"I don't think he got the memo."

"I'm serious! It's not right! We can tell someone-"

"And I'll be in Gotham's foster system by tomorrow night. In Juvie or the streets the week after that," he countered grimly. It was an equation he'd already ran in his head multiple times, and no matter how he squared it, his current situation always seemed better in his head than the great unknown.

"I wouldn't let that happen to you!"

He laughed at that statement and the sound that emanated from his throat was a pained mixture of sorrow and humor and the literal pain of getting your ribs kicked by a grown man. It was so very different from his normal high pitched laughter that sounded like a mischievous snicker. He wasn't sure if he was laughing at her insane confidence, or at the absurdity of her statement.

"Cam-" she started, looking worried.

"Can we not talk about this? Please?" He interrupted while maneuvering his battered body to a somewhat comfortable position on the bed.

Positioning herself so that she was laying down opposite of Cameron, their backs against each other on his bed. He faced the wall, with a perfect view of the window, while she faced the door. Optimal coverage of the only entrances and exits to the room, just like they always positioned themselves. "Ok," she answered.

So they didn't talk at all. They just sat together, letting their breaths and the Gotham night sounds act as a lullaby like they had so many times before. Cameron fell asleep quickly, but Artemis stayed up late into the light, her mind restless. Something beyond the obvious was bothering her, pooling in her stomach from the moment she saw Cameron get knocked down by his father and festering there ever since. It was like this disturbing, evil, cloud had been roaming her conscious for hours.

It was close to 2 a.m when realization hit her, and her blood ran cold.

Because for the first time in her life, Artemis Crock realized that she truly wanted to kill someone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sad.


	7. Day on the Town

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cameron & Artemis engage in delinquent behavior.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thanks to everyone who has left a comment/kudos/follow so far!
> 
> Ages: Artemis is 13, Cam is 15. He would have turned 15 in September the previous year, while Artemis turns 14 the coming May. Lol I have to keep reminding myself of the age math. I think before I said they were 1 year 4 months apart, but no they are 1 year 9 months apart (assuming I can count properly, which is a BIG assumption). Forgive me if you catch my ages not quite adding up in the future.

**Early Spring, 2 Years Before Team Year 1**

Artemis was miffed. Annoyed. Downright irritated.

It was only the second week of her freshman year of at Gotham North High and she was going to be late for the third time, and it absolutely was not her fault. For all his flaws, her father was always an early riser and he was damn good at instilling that into her and her sister, so her tardiness couldn't be blamed on her waking up late.

No, she was tardy because _someone_ didn't understand the concept of punctuality.

"Come on Cam! We're going to be late! Again!" she yelled towards the bathroom. She was currently sitting on his bed, which was the only clean part of his room or the apartment. This was by design, as Cameron would often explain to her whenever she brought up the perpetual state of complete disarray that his apartment existed in.

_"Dirty sheets lead to dirty blankets which lead to a dirty bed which means bed bugs and bed bugs are nastier than your upper lip after Taco Tuesday at school."_ He always responded to her complaints with some variation of this defense.

She sighed as she heard the sound of clattering from the bathroom, the commotion no doubt going to add to their tardiness. It wouldn't be much of an exaggeration to say that this was only Cameron's third day of actually showing up to school. He was only a sophomore, but his dad always had him running errands or even full blown jobs during the school days, only slowing down if it looked like the school was going to start probing too deep into his home life, which was almost never. Two weeks into the semester and his attendance rate was significantly worse than his freshman year, and that was worrying Artemis.

At the rate he was skipping he would be a dropout before his junior year.

"Don't get your ponytail twisted Rapunzel, I'm almost ready," he yelled as he left the bathroom. Except he was certainly _not_ almost ready, because he walked into his room dripping wet, hair everywhere, and nothing but a towel on.

"Cameron Mahkent," she started, eyebrows scrunched in irritation, "We have 15 minutes to get to school and you aren't even dressed!"

"I know, I know, but I've actually got a great idea to handle that problem," he replied, flinging his closet doors open.

"What? We fly to Gotham North on the magic carpet from Agrabah?" she asked sarcastically.

"No," he answered rummaged through his closet and haphazardly tossing his clothes all over the room. "We play hooky & go have ourselves a day on the town."

"Absolutely not. If my dad finds out I'm skipping for fun, he'll flip. He made it perfectly clear that my absences are going to be for jobs only."

"Oh come on!" he pleaded, now somehow fully submerged in his tiny closet and presumably getting dressed. "My dad is in Star City for the week and I already called in for two days yesterday. Only reason I was even planning to go to school was because you insisted. And your dad is off doing whatever for at least the next three days. He won't know that we skipped."

"The school will give him a call and send an e-mail. He'll find out about it one way or another." _Whenever they check either of those._ Their super-villain fathers didn't have the best track record when it came to putting in work in their civilian identities, but that didn't mean they wouldn't figure out their transgression eventually.

Cameron poked his head out of the closet and gave a shit-eating grin. "Not if a parents calls you in."

She looked at him funnily for a second, before realizing what he was implying and sat up immediately. "Cam, no."

"Artemis, please," he responded, matching her stern tone mockingly.

"No."

Cameron hopped out of the closet, still shirtless but now donning sweatpants instead of a towel – because _h_ _e still wasn't ready!_ – and practically skipped towards the bed. Stopping in front of Artemis, he got on his knees and did his best Puss in Boots impersonation. He managed to widen his eyes to comical proportions, trying to imitate the doe-eyed look, and his lip was turned upwards in an attempt at a pout. His hair was still sopping wet, floppily drooped over his forehead, creating one ungodly sight. "Pleeeeaaaaseeeee!"

Artemis had to suppress an ugly snort and the urge to take a photo of him for blackmail, instead giving him a glare that shouted _no_.

"Pretty pleeeeaaase with a cherry on top and mint ice cream?!" he pleaded, like he was a five year old child instead of a fifteen year old teenager.

"No!"

He bent forward and grabbed her dangling legs dramatically, clutching on to them like a lifeline and mock sobbing. "I beseech you! Have mercy on my poor soul!"

"No!" she responded, but she could feel her will starting to erode.

"If we skip today, I swear I'll go to school for the next week!"

"Fine!" she relented. "But the next full week! No absences, not even for your dad!"

Cameron jumped up, reaching for the flip phone on the night stand near his bed. "A small price to pay for a day of bliss."

"You're such a drama queen!"

"What can I say? It's part of my charm," he answered with a grin, dialing the number to Gotham North's office.

"You're going to have to nail this impersonation if the secretaries at the office are going to believe it."

"Pfft," he rolled his eyes. "You obviously haven't dealt with the secretaries in the office yet."

"It's only second week of high school, why would I have already been sent to the office?"

"Hah, poor Artemis. So innocent. They knew my face before 3rd period my first day-" he brought the phone closer to his ear as he heard someone on the other line. "Yea, hello. This is Larry Crock. Calling to excuse my daughter Artemis Crock for the day. She's sick." There was a pause were presumably the secretary said something, and Cameron "hmmed" gruffly and nodded. Artemis cracked a smile when he started puffed out his chest and strutted while talking, mocking her Dad's gait. A few gruff "umhmm" and some annoyed looking nods, and he hang up successfully.

"I can't believe they bought that."

"It was Ms. Benson. She probably never even looked away from her Facebook page."

"Well, now what?"

"We could go back to sleep," Cameron offered, collapsing into his bed near Artemis.

"Absolutely not."

"Well…how about we go visit our esteemed student counterparts in southern Gotham."

Artemis raised her eyebrow. "You don't mean..?"

Cameron let out a devilish grin. "Oh, but I do."

"We'll need uniforms."

"Waaaaay ahead of you blondie."

…

_God, these Gotham Academy Kids are beyond stupid_ thought Artemis. She was watching them mill about the courtyard – _their school had a courtyard!_ – from the bench she was sitting on at the edge of the esteemed campus. Cameron sat besides her, the two of them wearing the prim Gotham Academy uniforms that she didn't want to know how he had acquired. In perfect sizes for them no less.

His fingers flipped through the wad of cash in his hand. "I got twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three….wow that's almost forty-five hundred bucks between the two of us. And we hit what, seven kids?"

They'd struck during lunch hour, having wasted the entire morning playing the world's stupidest game of tag through Gotham's parks (Cameron's idea) and then cleaning Artemis's extensive arrow inventory (Artemis's prize for winning aforementioned game). Round two of the tag game, this time through Gotham's bustling downtown district determined their activity of choice at Gotham Academy (Cameron won).

Artemis didn't like pick-pocketing but it was a necessary skill in their life and these kids were decidedly easy marks to practice on. Whatever guilt she felt mostly dissipated after she realized how stupidly wealthy they were.

"Still can't believe these brats walk around with this much cash," she said, gazing at the students moseying back to school, several of them conspicuously late for class.

"Pfft, they were probably just carrying their daily allowance. Makes sense when you think about how much money their families pay to put them here. I heard this school has a legit chocolate fountain in the cafeteria."

"A chocolate fountain? You gotta be kidding me," she muttered in contempt. Gotham North barely had a computer lab.

"Between the Gucci accessories, the diamond necklaces, the Rolex's, and that one girl who was wearing a diamond encrusted Prada hat, we coulda made almost ten times this amount if he picked more than their pockets," he mused.

"Nah, would've been too much of a headache to unload that stuff. And besides, if we took away their designer accessories they might wither and turn to dust with exposure to the sun."

Cameron laughed. "Did you hear the guy complaining to his friends that this dad bought him an Audi for his sweet sixteenth?" Cameron scrunched his face up and spoke in a high pitched snobby voice. "An _Audi?_ I couldn't believe it, at the very least I expected a Rolls Royce. I mean, his _mistress_ got a Mercedes. Imagine when I arrive at the Milton residence in an _Audi?!_ The shame!"

Now it was Artemis's turn to laugh, before chiming in. "Or the senior who was complaining that her step-mom's breast implants were too good, so now she was going to have to convince her dad to give her better ones."

"These kids have everything, but they're so dense," Cameron spoke, half joking, half serious. "Can you imagine the stuff we could do at Gotham North if we had even half the stuff they have in here?"

"Agreed, but how would you even know? You barely show up!" Artemis jabbed pointedly.

"Yea, yea I know, but if I went to school here, you bet your blonde locks I'd be here every morning."

"You sure you'd make it in the morning?"

"Well, I'd get here _eventually._ "

The two broke out into laughter, continuing their banter on the bench for a while. They had to make a hasty exit off campus grounds when a roving teacher – a very hungover looking teacher – spotted them and tried to usher them to class.

"Well now what?" asked Artemis, the two walking around the streets of upscale Gotham, still wearing their Gotham Academy uniforms.

"Wow, the mighty Artemis Crock? Asking someone else to lead the way twice in one day? I don't believe my ears!"

"Today was your idea, you might as well take the lead this one time. But please, can we first change out of these annoying uniforms? This skirt is driving me insane and we don't need anyone trying to send us back to 'school'."

"Well I think you look kinda of cute in that skirt. It really accentuates your ashy shins."

"First of all, my shins are olive smooth, not a speck of ash on them." She gave Cameron a pointed glare which he only smiled at because, as usual, she was right. "And second, this skirt will look far cuter after I rip it off and burn it."

Cameron raised an eyebrow. "You see me in this slightly tight prep school uniform for a few hours and you're already talking about ripping your skirt off huh?"

"I didn't mean it like _that,_ " she countered, the slightest blush creeping onto her cheeks. It was moments like this that she really appreciated her olive complexion and it's ability to mask a blush.

"Looking real flustered there blondie." Apparently not good enough of a job.

"Moving _on_ ," she growled. "I say we get some food, go home, and stash this money. We can earn major brownie points if we give it to our dads to cover next months rent, and just keep the rest for ourselves."

"And that right there is why I am in charge of today. No way I'm shelling out our hard-earned criminal money for rent. Not when we don't ever get paid for all the grunt work we do for our dads. Nah, like I said Rapunzel, we're going to have a day on the town. I'm thinking pizza and ice cream, and then we grab a movie in an actual theater. One of the fancy ones too! With extra large popcorn with extra butter and jumbo sized sodas."

"Wow, almost sounds like date day."

"Is it the uniform, or have you always wanted to go on a date with me?"

"You know what, I think it's the uniform. It gives bulk to your scrawny little stick arms"

"So you _do_ want to go on a date!" Cameron exclaimed, completely bulldozing past the comment about his arms.

"You're completely missing the point."

"It's just part of my charm babe," he answered with a grin.

"You? Charming? Hah!" she scoffed.

"Well the day is still young. We'll see how you feel about that by tonight." He smiled and leaned closer to Artemis, who didn't dare move back an inch. "Oh and we're keeping the uniforms, since you appreciate it so much."

"In your dreams frostbite."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Awwww. Teen romance? Maybe. Delinquent behavior? Absolutely.


	8. Murder She Wrote

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Death visits our favorite duo, and hangs thick in the air.
> 
> Ages: Artemis is 14, Cameron is 15.

**Summer, 1 Year Before Team Year 1**

_This is bad. This is very bad._

Cameron tried to put all his effort into keeping a stoic exterior despite the fact that he was having a five-alarm panic attack on the inside. The situation in front of him was indeed, _very bad_.

Artemis barely winced as he worked on putting a tourniquet around the nasty gash on her leg, her eyes looking past him in horror. The cut on her leg was deep but from his limited medical knowledge he knew that the wound had missed the femoral artery, or there would be a lot more blood. Aside from her cut, bruises littered her arms and her nose was broken but she was relatively unharmed.

Cameron himself wasn't doing as well: He was covered in bruises and he was sure he had some cracked ribs, a possible concussion, and was sporting a deep knife wound in between two of his potentially broken ribs. But it wasn't the physical injuries to him or Artemis that had him worried.

It was what Artemis was staring at that had him freaked out.

"He wasn't supposed to…I didn't mean to…" she stammered.

"It's ok. It's ok," Cameron said, trying to calm her down and hoping his voice did not betray his inner panic.

Several feet away from both of them, a large burly man lay unresponsive on the ground, a pool of blood starting to collect around the body. An arrow was visibly sticking out of his chest, and while they couldn't see his face from where they were, the light from the warehouse windows filtered just perfectly to shine on his chest. He did not appear to be breathing.

A large combat knife lay near the body, covered in fresh blood.

After putting the finishing touches on the tourniquet, Cameron grabbed Artemis's combat knife and went over to the man, ignoring the blood that was pooling out of his wound. Clutching his own knife wound, he positioned himself deliberately to block Artemis's line of sight, and moved slowly. He wasn't confident that the man was truly incapacitated, and didn't wan't to be caught off guard.

Again.

When he got closer, he could tell that the man was in fact, breathing, but very shallow, infrequent breaths. His face was turning a weird purple-blue color, and he mouth was gaped open with slight twitches along his lips, as if he was trying to speak but couldn't. A domino mask covered his face, but Cameron was sure that his eyes held some expression of fear, shock, desperation, or all of the above.

_This man is dying._

He shoved that thought back down, trying to remain mission-oriented. He rummaged through the man's pockets until he found what he was looking for: The key for the inhibitor collar around his neck. Cameron clicked it in place and ripped it off the second the wretched contraption deactivated. Relieved by the return of his powers, he immediately summoned them to close off his knife wound and prevent it from getting dirty, or losing much more blood.

There was something utterly disgusting about being sapped of the abilities he had been born with. He was infuriated knowing that if not for the damned inhibitor collar, the current situation could have been avoided.

With his powers restored he went back to Artemis, who was still staring very intently at what she could the dying man. "Is..Is he…" she started.

"Don't worry about him," he interrupted, continuing to purposefully obstruct her view of the man. "You took a pretty nasty cut, we gotta get you back to your apartment, get some alcohol in there before it gets infected."

"But what about him?" she asked, as he used his powers to add ice to the tourniquet he made for her. It would keep the swelling down and decrease the pain for the time being.

"He tried to kill us. We'll deal with him later." He guided Artemis to stand where she could lean on him, avoiding putting weight on the leg with the laceration. She seemed able to stand with little issue, which meant the injury wasn't too much for adrenaline to offset for the time being. That was good. A more serious injury would require a hospital visit, and that was a _hard_ no go.

They needed to get back to the apartment. Fast.

…

"What the hell happened?" asked Lawrence incredulously.

He'd given the kids a simple job: Pick up a package at the drop point, something they'd done a dozen times without a hitch. So when he woke up to Cameron rummaging through his medicine cabinet while Artemis was trying and failing to stitch herself up and getting blood all over their carpeted floor, he was more than a little taken aback.

"You tell me!" yelled Cameron and Lawrence couldn't help but think _did Joar's pissant kid just raise his voice me?_ "We were waiting for _your guy_ to show up, and instead we got jumped!"

"Jumped by whom?"

"One assailant. Masked, armed with a combat knife. Had a _lot_ of martial arts skills," seethed Artemis. She knew her father would appreciate the clinical summary, not that he would show it.

Cameron went over to her and took the stitching needle from her. Her hands were shaking too much to be effective and by some miracle his were still calm. Artemis relinquished control easily, but refused to look at Cameron or her father, instead apparently taking a peculiar interest in a random spot on the wall.

"You allowed yourself to get had by one man? Who wasn't even a meta?" asked Lawrence, his voice a mixture of anger and disbelief. He'd trained his daughter better than that, but there she was, looking worse for wear.

Her injury looked manageable but all of her body language screamed _wrong._ She was tense but shaking at the same time. Her eyes were fixated but hollow, like she was looking past whatever she was staring at. Something was very off.

Cameron answered, "The guy caught me off guard, snapped an inhibitor collar on me. He got a good swipe at Artemis but I managed to get back at him. We grappled but without my powers I wasn't doing well. Artemis saved me. She got a shot in with one of her arrows right when he was going for my throat."

"The goon who jumped you two, he get away?"

Cameron shook his head. "He's still at the drop point."

"You have him tied up?"

Cameron hesitated before answering. "No."

"So you just left him there?"

"He's dead by now," was Artemis's terse reply, and Lawrence made an audible sucking in noise that sounded eerily close to a gasp.

 _Shit._ His mind started whirling as it put together clues from the situation in front of him. The injuries. Cameron snarling at him when he wouldn't usually so much as look at him funny. How shaken Artemis looked even though she'd patched herself up from much worse injuries.

_And what did junior just say? "She got a shot in."_

He looked at his daughter and the buried, condensed part of him that was still trying to be a good father wanted to comfort his baby girl because _God she's only fourteen,_ but the bigger, clinically criminal part of him took over: She had taken a step that was inevitable, and now the job at hand was handling the situation and getting rid of evidence before someone stumbled upon it.

"You just left a body with all that forensic evidence there?" he asked, his voice much more level than before.

"I prioritized." Cameron answered, his voice turning defensive. "Artemis was bleeding. I had an injury. We didn't know if there were more hostiles coming."

Lawrence went over to his daughter, who was still staring at – or rather past – that spot in the wall. Cameron was close to finishing up the stitching on her wound, which was looking better by the second. The fatherly instinct inside of him threatened to kick in now that he was closer and could see that she was holding back some tears, but he held it at bay. Like he always did.

Artemis didn't so much as glance at him.

"She'll be fine, but it's only a matter of time before someone finds that body." Glancing at Cameron, he continued, "You stay with Artemis, I'll go clean up."

The elder Crock shot one last look at his daughter before departing, whipping out his burner phone and dialing furiously as he took the stairs down three at a time. He had a body to disappear, but not before figuring out who they were, who sent them, and who else was going to have to die for this.

Back in the apartment, with her father gone, Artemis finally let go of the emotions she was holding in.

"I-I-I killed him," she said shakily, a tear coming down her face. "I crossed that line."

Cameron braced himself for this conversation. A selfish part of him had hoped she would just compartmentalize the events of the day. That he'd have time to stitch his wounds up and get his own head on right before having to talk about it with Artemis. But the universe never did like giving him a break.

"He jumped us, and he was looking to kill us. There was no line there to cross, only survival."

"So?" she asked harshly, "I could have aimed for the leg, for the arm, for-"

"He was about a half second from slashing through my throat and killing me, and then you would have been next," Cameron interjected forcibly. "You didn't have time to think Artemis, only to _do_ _._ "

"And I chose to _do_ something that ended another human life!" she yelled, finally tearing her eyes from the wall to look him. Whatever words he had planned to respond with died in his throat when he looked in her eyes. They were consumed with more grief and pain than he'd ever seen before.

"The man wasn't breathing Cam. He-He's dead.. Single arrow. Metal tip, straight to his heart. He didn't stand a chance. How am I supposed to live with that?" she asked.

"If you hadn't, I'd be dead, and you might be dead too. Even if you'd survived, you'd have blamed yourself for my death because that's the kind of friend you are. Would you have been able to live with that?" Cameron countered, hoping that would help.

She paused, trying to formulate the right answer to the question. After a few seconds, she answered "No, I don't think so."

"There you go." Cameron stated, moving up from the floor to next to her on the couch. He wasn't okay with had happened, but instead of feeling guilt about the dead body, he was feeling anger. Anger at Artemis's father for walking them into a trap without any sort of warning. Anger at the assailant for attacking them. Anger at himself for getting caught unawares and making Artemis have to take the kill shot. Anger at the fact that it should have been him. That he should have been the one to carry the burden of taking a life, because it wouldn't have bothered him nearly as much as it bothered Artemis. Not if it meant saving his best friend's life.

"What if I missed?" she asked, her voice trembling with horror.

"What?" he responded. Because unless he was hallucinating, she very clearly did not miss.

"If I missed his heart," she repeated slowly, her eyes going wide. "If I hit his lungs, oh God, he would have spent minutes dying. He would have been in so much pain. He could _still_ be dying," she realized, her voice almost dropping to a whisper with that last realization.

"You didn't miss."

"You don't know that!"

"Yes I do!" He grabbed her wrists lightly. "You have to know didn't do anything wrong."

"I killed a man!" she whisper-shouted as she pulled her hands back. Cameron was suddenly very cognizant of the open window and the thin walls that separated this apartment and the neighbors.

"Artemis, I need you to stay calm."

"Calm? Stay calm!?" she asked, raising her voice. "I should've known he was coming, I should have been prepared, I should have, I-" she started hyperventilating, bringing her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. She was shrinking into herself.

"Artemis, deep breaths. I need you to take deep breaths." He tried to sound reassuring, but he could feel his own panic starting to seep into his voice. With her dad gone, he was starting to worry that she might delve into a full blown panic attack. He was _not_ prepared to handle this.

Suddenly, he remembered a stress-relief trick that Crystal[1] had taught him when he was younger.

"Tell me three things you can see," he asked slowly but clearly.

"What?" she asked, the question not really registering.

"Just do it. Three things you can see. The first three things that pop into your mind."

"Uh, you. The wall. The kitchen."

"Two things you can hear."

"My breathing. The cars outside."

"One thing you can smell."

"The tuna my dad made for dinner. He never washes the pots after he's done cooking."

"Ok, good. Now just breathe. Breathe. Better?" She nodded unconvincingly, still keeping her head close to her knees and her arms wrapped around herself. But she wasn't hyperventilating anymore and Cameron was going to take that as a win.

Neither of them said anything further for the next few minutes as Artemis practiced controlled breathing, trying to get her heat rate under control, while Cameron started to take a proper mental inventory of his injuries. With the adrenaline starting to seep away, he was starting to _feel_ that knife wound, regardless of his ice powers, and he started to wonder if the knife he'd been stabbed with had been laced with something. If he ignored it much longer the pain was going to be unbearable.

But it could wait until he felt comfortable leaving Artemis by herself for a few minutes.

"Tell me…" Artemis started, speaking much quieter than before now. "When you went over to him back there, was he...was he still breathing? And don't lie to me Cam. I'll know. I swear I'll know."

She tilted her head to look at him fiercely, daring him to lie. He matched her gaze and saw that the combination of fear and guilt was not as all encompassing as before, but was still bubbling underneath the surface of her stone grey eyes.

He thought about the man, his face turning purple as he labored through his last painful breaths. His mouth trembling as he reached for words that never came.

"No, he wasn't breathing," he lied, better that he ever had in his life. "He was dead before he hit the ground."

"Are you sure?"

"You don't miss Artemis. Not when it counts."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't see Artemis being a willing killer during her time with her dad, not with it never coming up with the team. But I can totally see her having been forced to take a life at some point, both before and during her tenure as a hero, so why not in defense of her best friend? Leave your thoughts.
> 
> Leave a comment or I'll make Artemis sad again!


	9. Visitation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Artemis visits someone special. And Cam is there too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My internship is starting pretty soon, so this quicker update is to make up for the slower updates to come. Thanks to everyone whose kudos'ed/reviewed this story so far! You're all the best!
> 
> Age: Artemis is 14. Cameron is 16.

**Fall, 1 Year Before Team Year 1**

The burly, nasty looking corrections officer eyed the pieces of paper in front of him as if they were contraband, quickly rifling through them with his pudgy fingers. His cold beady eyes darted back and forth between the papers and the two teenagers in front of him. The blonde pony-tail girl was glaring at him hard, like she wanted to reach through the bulletproof glass and punch him in the face, but her oddly pale friend was trying to give him an appeasing smile to counteract it. He was failing.

Whatever. Their paperwork was in order and that was good enough for him.

"Step through here," he motioned, instructing them to enter through the door to his right. GOTHAM CITY DEPARTMENT OF CORRECTIONS was stamped on it in big white capital letters, in case anyone who walked through forgot this was a prison. As if the atmosphere of misery and despair weren't enough of a dead giveaway. The harsh October wind howling outside the prison walls felt more comfortable than the route the two teenagers had taken once they entered. And they were just visitors.

When they crossed over into what looked like a waiting room, the guard came out of his semi-office and handed Artemis back the papers she had given him. It was a visitation waiver, the only reason she was allowed to be here without her father. Minors weren't allowed to visit prisoners without their parent or legal guardian present, and since her father was a unique piece of human garbage, Artemis hadn't seen this particular prisoner in person since she said goodbye to her at the hospital. While she had been cuffed to the hospital bed.

5 years ago.

 _"I don't want you to see her in that state, and neither does she."_ He always said some variation of that whenever the issue came up, and no amount of her begging and pleading could get him to sing a different song. Sometimes he yelled it with anger, sometimes he said it with sorrow. More often than not he just grunted it with no emotion. After a while Artemis stopped caring because _he_ was blocking her from visiting the most important person in her life. No amount of phone calls and weekly letters was going to change that reality.

Truthfully, it had been a while since she'd given up on the idea of seeing her mother until after she got out of prison. She was resolved to that fate, until Cameron came to her a month ago, his whole body practically bursting with that weird nervous energy he emanates when he does something he thinks is great but isn't sure how others will respond. He basically shoved the papers into her hands, stammering about how he'd been "chatting with Google" and found out that a child could visit a parental prisoner without an adult present if their other guardian signed a parental waiver. He'd actually printed out the form at school and brought it to her to have "Lawrence Crock" – read: A very angry Artemis Crock – sign it with extreme haste.

Her emotions kept bouncing between being livid that she hadn't figured that out herself and extremely grateful for whatever series of events led to Cameron looking into the issue.

The guard stopped and pointed to the open doors on the other side of the room. Behind them you could see the start of the "booths" where people would sit to talk with their loved ones, still separated by bulletproof glass and only able to communicate via a phone.

"Go right through these doors. You're at station eight. You've got forty-five minutes. And you," the guard jabbed his finger at Cameron, "sit and wait here. This form only clears the girl."

"Thank you," Artemis replied as the guard returned back to his post, waiting to process whoever was next.

She stared hard at the open doors, thinking about the possibilities that lay behind the threshold. All she had to do was walk a few steps and she would be seeing her mother face to face for the first time. It was something she dreamed about.

 _So why am I terrified right now?_ she asked herself.

 _Same reason you waited an entire month to do this_ the voice in her head answered.

"You good Artemis?" asked Cameron, interrupting her thoughts. He was giving her a concerned look and she suddenly became aware that she'd been standing in the same spot for far too long to be inconspicuous.

"Peachy," she answered with a heavy dose of sarcasm.

"Yea, that's why you're feet are glued to the floor while your mom is just around the corner."

"I know, I know, it's just…what if it goes wrong?" she asked worriedly.

_What if I don't recognize her? What if she doesn't recognize me? What if it's been too long?_

Her heart rate increased with each poisonous thought. She already had one bad parent and Jade...Yea sure, she'd seen Jade two or three times, lurking in the shadows of the rooftops around their apartment, and she may or may not still leave her birthday gifts, but she hadn't had a _real_ sister since she'd left. The idea of losing her mother was almost unbearable.

"C'mon Arty, we talked about this," Cameron said, trying to offer words of comfort.

"It's been so long Cam, we don't even know each other anymore. Phone calls and letters with pictures aren't the same thing. What if she's disappointed in me? What if she...knows?" She whispered the last word, but he heard and immediately knew what she was referring to. Just mentioning that night at the warehouse had a chilling effect.

"Look Artemis, I never met her, but from everything you've said about her, she sounds awesome. I'm sure she's just as excited as you are, no matter what she does or doesn't know."

"I hope so."

"Look, when this is over we'll stop by the park on the way home and grab ice cream. On me."

Artemis instinctively rolled her eyes. "You and your ice cream. Ice cream doesn't fix everything Cam."

"I could argue that point all day, but you need to get in there before the guard starts getting suspicious."

Now _that_ was a point that she couldn't argue, so she didn't. Instead she moved forward, going through the doors to the next room over. The pair of parallel steel benches running across the room came into clearer view, separated right down the middle by a steel divider with glass windows to mark the boundary between the free and the imprisoned. The benches on both sides were sectioned off with plastic-y binders to give the illusion of privacy. Telephones adorned each section, so that prisoner and visitor could speak to each other without having to yell, but any self-respecting criminal knew that those conversations were recorded.

Frankly, the phones were probably only there because they made it easier for the prison to record every non-attorney client conversation a prisoner had with the outside world.

Artemis took her seat at Station #8, reaching for the phone. On the other side of the glass, as the prisoner she was visiting did the same, Artemis took this moment to assess her. The women that sat directly across from her looked older than she remembered. There were more worry lines across her face, and her hair was a shade grayer that the last time Artemis had seen it. The wheelchair was the most damning change, and she had to will herself not to stare at it. But some features were unchanged: The barely tamed hair that Jade had inherited and didn't even try to keep under control. The high cheekbones that both of her children displayed. The dark eyes that always seemed kind but steady, never wavering in certainty even when their owner was cuffed and crippled. Now, those eyes were staring wide open in shock and they were..wet?

"Artemis," the woman gasped. "They didn't say who was coming to visit."

"Hi Mom," Artemis croaked, and damn it all if she wasn't already about to cry herself.

"My beautiful daughter." The tears started falling freely down Paula Crock's face now. "I'm so, _so_ happy to see you."

Maybe this wouldn't go badly after all.

…

Cameron sat antsily in the waiting room for the duration of their talk, eyeing the various people entering and departing. Barely over half an hour and he was pretty sure he recognized two of his neighbors, one of Artemis's, and three kids from his class at Gotham North High.

 _Not awkward at all_ thought Cameron as he tried to avoid looking at the last student he recognized. He was pretty sure they recognized him, pale skin and all, but he was more concerned about Artemis. She had a lot riding on this meeting. It was the first time she was going to see her mother since she'd gone to jail. He'd been ecstatic to show her the consent form only to be dumbfounded when she spent an entire month putting off actually visiting her mother. When he'd asked her why she was taking so long, she'd only lashed out at him for getting in her business.

In retrospect it only made sense to him that she'd be worried. On top of all the normal nerves of seeing her mom for the first time in years, she'd already been acting out of sorts every since the…incident… at the warehouse. While they'd both been shaken, he'd been able to get back into the flow of things much better than she had, and the difference was glaring. Her blows kept coming in a few seconds too late and a few inches off in combat training, like she was afraid to hit him. Her dependable aim with the bow and arrow was off more than it wasn't, and last month he actually saw her completely miss a target ring. Her dad hadn't said anything about her lagging performance, but it was obvious he was concerned, seeing as how they hadn't been sent on any missions since it happened. Whether he was concerned about their safety or their ability to complete missions successfully wasn't clear.

Cameron winced as the memories of that night brought back a phantom pain in the area of his now healed knife wound. At the time, he had seriously misjudged the severity of his wound. Between the adrenaline and the sudden return of his powers helping suppress the damage, he somehow missed the fact that the blade had punctured a lung. Hell, he'd gone to sleep after stitching up the cut, not realizing the severity of the situation until he woke up in the middle of the night with coughing up blood while his lungs felt like they were on fire.

He spent the next week at some hospital under a fake name, being looked after by a doctor who had the misfortune of owing the wrong people a favor. That doctor had been the one to tell him that his metahuman powers had clotted the bleeding after the initial cut, keeping fatal-level damage from occurring much longer than any normal human body could have. Apparently it was the only reason that he wasn't dead. That, and the fact that he had elected to sleep over at the Crock apartment rather than his own empty place. When he woke up drowning in his own blood there had been people there to take him to a hospital. If he'd been home he would have died alone, while his dad wrapped up a job in Metropolis.

In fact, even after his dad was notified of his hospitalization it was Artemis – not his dad, because why would his dad be there for his possibly dying son – who was sitting in the uncomfortable hospital chair next to him for that entire week while she nursed her own injuries. She punched him for almost dying on her, and then hugged him way too hard for someone with broken ribs and a hole in his lungs. It didn't do much to hide how shaken up she was, but he ignored it for her sake as much as his. They both tried to pretend that the incident never happened.

It was pretty clear to Cameron that he was much better at doing that than Artemis was, which is why he'd been elated when found a loophole that could let her visit her mom. But now, waiting in tense anticipation, he started to wonder if maybe he hadn't thought this through. That the negative consequences of a meeting gone bad could do far more damage than he'd be able to handle. He pondered what would happen if the meeting went bad, and he didn't like the images that came to mind.

That's why he practically jumped to his feet when she came out, trying to gauge how it went based on the look on her face. He pretended not to notice her wiping a tear from the corner of her eye.

"How did it go?"

"It was good," she answered. He could see a smile tugging on the corner of her lips and he felt relief as he realized that the tears she was hiding were happy tears. Before he could say something, she reached forward and engulfed him in a bear hug.

It was altogether a very un-Artemis-like action.

"Thanks Cam. For everything," she mumbled into his chest.

"Your welcome. What else are BFF's for?"

"Well, there is the free ice cream you mentioned," she said, untangling herself from him in time to catch a glare from the security guard.

"Ahh there it is. The gold digger in you coming out."

"Aaand you ruined the moment."


	10. Abandoned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The inevitable arrives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes place shortly before Artemis becomes a hero. In the comics Artemis's mom comes home at the end of July, and Artemis herself meets Batman and Green Arrow shortly after, so I figure this would have happened a few months before.
> 
> Ages: Artemis is 15, Cameron is 16

**Early Spring, Team Year 1**

She didn't believe her father when he casually mentioned the news that morning. In fact, she cussed him out for saying what she was sure was a lie, the vitriol powered from her tongue by morning crabbiness and a deeper fear that what he was speaking the truth. She refused to give the claim credence when she went to school and Cameron wasn't there to deny it. He skipped school all the time, even if at a slower pace than since she started nagging him about it. His absence didn't mean something abnormal. So she ignored the uncomfortable feeling growing in her stomach.

 _Skipping school again? I'm missing my portable A/C right now_ she texted to him teasingly, during lunch hour. He didn't respond, and it didn't help calm her nerves.

She still didn't believe it when her father made her use up the rest of her after-school time tailing some sketchy PTA mom that owed a debt to someone or the other. An easy but boring job that she normally would have done with Cameron. Who was "busy prepping", according to her father's sneer that morning.

She texted him a few more times as she moved throughout one of the less crime riddled, suburban-esque neighborhoods of Gotham.

_Got given a "chore" to do and I'm bored._

_Entertain me doofus._

_Wow, ghosting is a new low, even for you frostbite._

A half dozen text messages later, while the mom she was tailing flirted shamelessly with some delivery boy, she dialed Cameron's number with a few scathing remarks on the tip of her tongue. People did _not_ ghost Artemis Crock, and she was about to let him know that when the voice on the other end of the line rudely interrupted her thoughts.

 _"The number you have dialed is no longer in-"_ Artemis cut the robotic tone off before it could finish. She'd heard it plenty of times before, because it wasn't uncommon for Cameron to change his phones. They had a nasty habit of getting damaged between accidents with his powers and his own general clumsiness. He compensated his continuous phone losses by sticking to cheap, low end burner phones instead of buying smartphones like a normal teenager. Except he always gave her advance notice when he did, and if he didn't, she was always the first person he called from his new phone.

 _Obviously, he must've forgotten_ she told herself.

The wrong feeling in her gut was getting stronger, and it was ruining what little appetite she had left after watching the PTA mom throw herself at that delivery boy. Still, she was adamant in her disbelief of her father's words. _Probably another one of his idiotic mind games_ she kept telling herself, trying to focus on her mindless task.

She was firm in her belief up until the moment she walked into her bedroom that night and saw a sheepish looking Cameron sitting on Jade's old bed. Next to him was a large, worn black duffel bag, packed to the brim with all of his meager possessions. Her eyes kept going back and forth between his packed luggage and the half-hearted smile on his face, the guilt on his smile more damning than anything else.

The uncomfortable feeling in her abdomen went straight to her heart.

"So it's true," she said coldly, taking a seat on her own bed. Cameron looked surprised for a moment, but sagged his shoulders in defeat.

"Yea. How'd you find out?"

"My dad told me this morning. I think he just wanted to see my reaction. I didn't believe him, because _obviously_ if something that big was happening I would have heard it from you first."

Cameron went back to that sheepish, guilty look he had when she walked in, and she had to resist the temptation to deck him. Except unlike the normal urges to punch him, there was nothing playful driving her this time.

"You're leaving." She said it like an accusation, not a statement of fact, the words bitter on her tongue. "How long have you known?

"Only a few more hours than you. I found out late last night."

"You could have texted me before you trashed your old phone. Given me some heads up instead of letting me hear it from my dad!"

"I didn't even know that he knew! I thought this was a conversation that we should have in person. Since it's gonna be the last time we see each other for a while."

"What's your new number?"

Cameron grimaced. "My dad says we have to go dark. No new phone, no contact with anyone for a while."

"So how the hell are we supposed to stay in touch?" she asked, raising her voice in annoyance.

Cameron all but flinched backwards. "We can't," he mumbled.

"Great." She crossed her arms defensively, shrinking back into herself.

"I don't have a choice Artemis. I've been dragging my feet on this for almost two years now, and I'm out of excuses."

The "this" he was speaking about was his induction into the life as a proper metahuman criminal. The beginning of his path to proper "supervillainy", as his father would often say. It was practically a rite of passage for those in their life, especially for meta children of villains.

"He's going to make you a full-blown villain Cam!" Artemis exploded, irritated by the timidness in his voice. "This isn't dead drops or watching prisoners or running through the park all night for some stupid training course. You'll be a full blown criminal!"

"You think I don't know that?" he shot back, and she felt a pang of guilt at her tone. She knew, more than anyone that this wasn't his choice. How many times had they conversed about the paths their fathers were trying to set them down? How many times had they affirmed that this wasn't the life they wanted?

"Then why are you going?" she asked, the real question she had going unspoken. But her eyes screamed the words anyway. _Why are you leaving me?_

"He's my dad Artemis."

"We don't have to listen to our dads! We talked about this! We just need to hold out for a little longer, just keep our heads low until-"

"Until what? Until your mom comes through the door? Then what?" he asked. His voice didn't carry malice, but Artemis could see the pain in his eyes even in the dark of the room. Because at the end of the day, she _was_ waiting for her mom. Sticking around for her even after Jade had left, even as her dad slipped deeper and deeper into his criminal network. That was always her plan and she just assumed Cameron would be there.

Looking back, she was starting to see how that might have been the wrong assumption to make.

"We don't all have a mom to wait for Artemis," he said sorrowfully. "My dad's the only family I have left."

"I thought we were family." Her steely grey eyes were boring into his, conveying the words she hadn't spoken.

_I thought we were enough._

"We are! But it's not the same thing. What am I supposed to do? Run away from home? Live on the streets? Hide in your bedroom and hope your dad doesn't notice the extra kid lounging around the house for the next couple of years?"

"You're 16, you can become an emancipated minor! Then legally you can do whatever you want."

"Legalese won't put a roof over my head and food on the table. And whatever I'd have to do to be able to pay for that would be worse than sticking it out with my dad."

It was true. Emancipated minor or not, food and lodging cost more money than general thievery or some minimum wage job would provide. Artemis barely restrained a shudder thinking about the kind of activities that would provide enough money. In Gotham, that would entail hurting yourself or hurting someone else badly.

And regardless, being a legal adult wouldn't stop Joar from coming back with a vengeance to drag his son's battered and bruised body into The Life.

"So that's it? You're just giving up? You're not even gonna try?"

"You know this isn't what I want!" he answered, vexed.

"Doesn't look like it!" she whisper-hissed back.

"This was always the endgame Artemis!" he exclaimed. "This is everything we've been trained to do for years. What do you want me to do about it?"

"I want you to fight harder!"

"I've been fighting," he answered with a deep sigh, looking at the floor. "I would've though you out of everyone would understand."

"The only thing I understand is that my best friend, my only _real_ friend is leaving without any notice, without any way to contact him, and with no idea when or if he'll be able to see me again. And he's leaving for a life we both hate."

Cameron glanced back up at her and winced. Her body language screamed _You're abandoning me._

"I'm going to be back soon. Some weeks, maybe a few months and then we'll be back to normal." He tried to make sure that his sorrowful eyes pleaded _I'm not._

"There won't be any going back to normal once you cross that line Cam. You know it, and I know it."

_Yes, you are._

He all but deflated into the bed, laying back in defeat. "I was really hoping to leave on a positive note," he said, his voice much softer now.

"There's nothing to be positive about."

Cameron sighed again. "That's really you how your going to do this?"

The only response he got was a steely glare. _Yes. This is really how I'm going to do this._

"This isn't how I wanted to say goodbye."

"Then say goodbye Cam," she offered frigidly.

He stifled a frustrated groan, because there was no convincing Artemis when she got this dug in, and he didn't have time to wait her out.

Instead, he reached into his duffel bag, rummaging around before pulling out a large leather bound book. It had a golden metallic latch and had an "A" inscription on the front, drawn out with three different elaborate arrow designs. On the back was the inscription of an even more elaborate snowflake.

"It's a photo journal. Cheesy, I know, but I found this kiosk where they let you customize the inscriptions and they actually did a good job on the other books, especially for a shitshow like Gotham so I thought what the hell. I was gonna save it for a special occasion but I figure that we uh, we can fill it out together when I get back, especially once you actually get a new phone like you keep saying that can take all those nice pics. And I mean the lock is easily picked because you know I tested it myself, but I figure it was there for design not security because who breaks into a photo journal and - " he stopped his own nervous rambling when he noticed Artemis hadn't even looked in his direction.

Instead of continuing to talk, he just stood up and moved over to Artemis, putting the journal on the nightstand beside her bed.

He then slung his duffel bag over his shoulder, moving past her to the fire escape outside her window. It was a route he had used to come and go from her room dozens if not hundreds of times over the last few years, but there as certain finality to this exit that made him uneasy. It made him want to damn his father to hell and back, because it wasn't fair.

 _Life isn't fair boy_ his father's voice snarled back at him.

He looked back at Artemis one last time from the fire escape. Her back was still facing him, but he had a suspicion that she was holding back tears. For the first time in a long time, he found himself at a loss for comforting words for his best, and only true friend.

He wanted to grab her by her shoulders and shake her until she got annoyed enough to punch him in the arm. He wanted to scream at her to wait for him. He wanted to stay.

Instead he offered a soft "I'm sorry."

And then he was gone.

Artemis listened to the sound of the fire escape creaking, knowing when he was filling in the missing steps with his ice powers just from the shift in sound. A few seconds later she heard the definitive thud of his shoes hitting the puddle that always pooled right under the fire escape, and she knew he was on gone for real.

She sat in her spot, unmoving. She wanted to punch something (his dad, her dad, Cameron), or scream at someone (all of the above). She wanted to chase him down and hug him goodbye and wish him the best and plot a secret way to stay in touch, consequences be damned. Instead, she couldn't stop thinking about how Jade was right all those years ago, her words rattling around Artemis's brain and hanging over her like a cloud.

_In this family, it's every girl for themselves._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now that we're 10 chapters in, let me know what you want to see/think this going. I'm curious to see how reader perspectives mesh/differ from what I have planned out, and I love interacting with readers.


	11. Belle Revve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In prison, Cameron makes some harsh realizations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> According to the YJ Wiki, the Belle Revve episode in Season 1 happened in September, so I'm sticking with that canon-timeline for this post.
> 
> Artemis is 15, Cameron is 17

**Fall, Team Year 1**

The inmates let out another roar of frustration as they watched Killer Croc get slammed into a Queen Industries semi-truck on national television. Watching villains vs capes fight was practically an institutional past-time in Belle Revve: The inmates loved watching heroes get beat up, even if they almost always won, and the guards loved to make bets and crack skulls whenever they felt the inmates got loud enough for them to get away with it.

A cheer started but quickly turned into more groans and curses when Killer Croc lunged for his opponent, but received a mouthful of explosive arrows to the face. Their guy was getting his lunch handed to him by Green Arrow of all people and it was only agitating the few Gotham villains that had somehow ended up here instead of Arkham. Nevermind the fact that no one seemed to care why a Gotham rogue was rampaging through Star City. Gotham or no Gotham, Batman's rogues had major street cred in the criminal world and, for them, losing to a non-Bat vigilante who wasn't Superman was a major no-no

Cameron rubbed his temples to try and soothe his ringing headache, a nice reminder of the concussion he had after his…encounter with Mr. Freeze in the laundry room. Over a month had passed since he'd botched the prison escape and the hard feelings towards him had not gone unsaid or unnoticed. He had been jumped on kitchen duty, attacked in the yard, had two (two!) attempted shivvings, and then yesterday Mr. Freeze had given him a proper stomp out for doubting his loyalty during the raid. Each time the guards were conspicuously absent at the onset of the attack, only arriving just in time to stop anything that would require them to fill out paperwork explaining why an inmate was in need of surgery.

It was well known that they took bets on prison fights and rumor was if Cameron made it to his juvie transfer date without being stabbed, Wilcox was going to be out $500.

At least now that Mr. Freeze had gotten his beating in he was back to snarling at any other prisoner who was giving Cameron the dirty look. The perks of being the _capo's_ son: You only got a beating instead of becoming the prison bitch, because _that_ would just be one strike too many against his dad's rep.

Cameron winced as the inmates roared in (un?)righteous indignation as Killer Croc missed a clean jab at Green Arrow and got his jaws sealed shut by a foam arrow to the face from Speedy. _Wait, isn't it Red Arrow now?_ Before he could think about that more, his headache seemed to find a new gear as the guards yelled for order, threatening to shock everyone with their collars. That got the noise to ratchet down, at least for the time being. Even without the monetary incentive of gambling, the guards were always trigger happy, and ever since the prison break they'd been using the shock features on the collars as if they _did_ get a bonus for each use.

 _Guards are violent. Prisoners are violent. No wonder no one leaves our prison system rehabilitated_ he thought to himself, scooping up the last of the lukewarm liquid impersonation of soup that counted as food.

He thought for a brief second about Artemis's mom, who would have been released for a few months by now. He wondered if she had come out as rehabilitated as she seemed when she talked to Artemis. He wondered if she'd managed to convince Crusher to walk away from the life and if Artemis finally found some peace with two parents that actually cared. And then he remembered that the last time he saw Artemis she was in waiting in handcuffs, right next to him, and his mood soured.

There had been a lot he'd wanted to say, but something seemed off about her, especially considering how things had ended when they were last both free.

 _"Our **dads** used to be pretty tight back in the day," _she'd said with a seemingly dramatic flourish, as if they hadn't been friends for the last half decade. She had been giving him a smile, but he noticed it hadn't reached her eyes. When she spoke to him something about her tone seemed slightly off, and at the time he attributed it to the awkwardness of the circumstances they were reconnecting under. Her hands had been rubbing her thigh right along where her scar was from the cut she got from warehouse incident. A tell for when she was nervous about something.

A collective groan rose from the prisoners yet again, prompting him to look back to the TV. Killer Crock was knocked out and an inhibitor collar was firmly strapped around his neck as wary looking police officers starting putting various shackles on the enormous man-beast. A predictable outcome, if not an embarrassing one for his fellow Arkham criminals.

Rather than join his fellow inmates in cursing at the TV, Cameron went back to his thoughts of his last meeting with Artemis.

_What the hell was up with that anyway?_

Aside from all the things that seemed off about her, the very fact that she was even there in handcuffs set of too many alarms in his brain. Artemis was too smart to be in jail and her dad was too careful about that type of stuff. Or at least he was the last time Cameron was around him. Not like his father, who could care less if he was in handcuffs or not.

_Why was she at a Star City Police station?_

She was a Gothamite, and he would have heard from his dad if Sportsmaster was making moves in Star City. Hell he would have been ecstatic to hear that, because then there'd be a chance he'd finally get to see Artemis again. But last he heard Sportsmaster was out of the country, doing Big Boy League of Shadows business. He asked his dad again when he got to Belle Revve just to make sure, but all he got was the same answer and a gruff reminder to mind his own business.

The more he thought about it the less sense it made.

On TV, the reporter lady whose name he didn't bother to remember made her way to Green Arrow, shoving her mic in his face. "Green Arrow, what do you have to say about concerns that superheroes taking down criminals like this actually do more damage than good? Do you have a message for people are worried that cops will become too reliant on you?"

"No comment," he answered diplomatically, and Cameron was slightly disappointed that he didn't give a juicer response. His thoughts were answered by a girl ( _a girl?_ ) who quickly followed up with less passive remarks while he took the final slurp of his soup.

"I say thanks to us he'll be enjoying his time in Arkham, or better yet, Belle Revve with the rest of the scumbags we've put there for a very long time."

That voice. _I knew that voice._ He whipped his head around to the TV way too fast, fast enough for his head to remind him that he definitely still had a concussion and his vision to blur just a little bit. A little bit, but not enough for him not to get a good look at the girl. Long blonde hair clashing against olive skin. Stone grey eyes under a green mask. That defiant victory grin.

_I know that goddamn face._

"Brave words from – Artemis was it? – the newest sidekick to Green A–" And then someone threw a rock – _where the hell did they get a rock?!_ – right at the TV, smashing the screen.

"I told you to get your disgusting Aussie fingers out of food!" yelled (or really whined) Abra Kadabra.

"And _I_ told _you,_ to make me ya bloody wench!" leered Captain Boomerang, raising his fists for a fight as the other inmates started to cheer them on. That was more than enough for the guards.

The inmates felt their bodies tense up with pain as their inhibitor collars started sending painful volts of electricity through him. Cameron felt his body tense up with pain as he used all his will power to keep from falling out of his seat and curling into a ball on the floor. That kind of display of weakness marked the weak and could earn him another beating.

Around him the noise reached a crescendo of chaos: One of the prisons various alarms was blaring, and the shouts of the prisoners and guards started to jumble together until it all mingled into one indecipherable noise.

Cameron didn't hear any of it, his grip on his spoon tightening until his pale hand became beet red. He didn't let go until a guard smashed their baton down on his head and he passed out.

…

Two hours later, sporting some new bruises and an even bigger headache, he lay in the prison infirmary confused. There had to be some kind of mistake. His brain had to be playing some tricks. Sure Artemis had always resisted The Life, but she wasn't a damn hero. She certainly wasn't a Star City hero, traipsing around with Green Arrow with her own name as her superhero name. Because that would just be plain stupid. Obviously he was confused, possibly hallucinating because of his earlier concussion.

_I mean, I just saw her a few weeks ago-_

And then the full reality of the situation hit him like a locomotive going full speed. Things slowly started to add up in his mind even as he already knew what conclusion they were leading too.

 _I saw her a few weeks ago. And she was asking questions._ For as long as he had known her, Artemis didn't talk about The Life unless it was necessary. She certainly didn't ask about his dad or what he was planning. _I told her to get to Belle Revve._ And then all of a sudden Superboy and Miss Martian arrived incognito as the Terror Twins. The Justice League had members of their junior squad perfectly positioned at the exact moment of the most ambitious prison break in American history.

Because he tried to give Artemis a heads up.

He sat there in the infirmary, staring dumbly at the white walls while his head pounded with the pain of another concussion and the sudden realizations worming their way through his mind. Confusion gave way to betrayal. Betrayal gave way to hurt.

He could count on three fingers the people he trusted with his life without hesitation. One was his father, who he had to trust because that was his father, and despite all he'd done, the idea of living in a world where he couldn't trust his one living parent was too painful to entertain. The second was Crystal, who was the closest thing to a big sister/mother figure he ever had. She had been the only person to stick by his side after the prison break without taking her pound of flesh first, not that she could do much segregated in the female wing. Now he was finding out that the third person, someone he had literally fought and bled with, had just used him as a snitch.

And then his hurt gave way to anger.

He gripped the medical sheets around him as his headache elevated in intensity. It wasn't even throbbing anymore. Just one continuous pulse of pain

 _So this is what it's like,_ he thought bitterly, _to be stabbed through the heart._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ouch. There's a scene in the YJ Tie-in comic "...And the Penalty" where Artemis goes undercover and milks Cameron for info. That scene is what Cameron is alluding to when he says he saw Artemis in cuffs.
> 
> Leave a comment for poor Cameron.


	12. Doubt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Artemis has thoughts on Cam's situation.
> 
> Artemis is 15, Cameron is 17.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter wasn't originally planned but it felt needed to counterbalance the last one so I kind of just...roughed it out. Forgive me if it feels rushed.

**Fall, Team Year 1**

Guilt.

That was the overwhelming feeling Artemis battled as she stared at the hacked live feed of Inmate #232, discreetly provided to her by Robin. He hadn't asked her why – which only made her suspicious that he already knew – but he had made her promise to help him clean the Batmobile after he finished his latest prank. She hadn't hesitated to make the deal, desperate to get a look in the prison without notifying any of the elder superheroes of her interest. Especially Batman or Green Arrow.

The focus of her attention was sitting in his cell, laying with his back to the wall and his head angled to have a direct line of sight to the door. Just like they were taught to do when they were kids. The familiar pose made her stomach churn. She knew that she didn't put him there – no that was the direct result of his father's evil schemes & Cameron's own inability to walk away from them – but her actions in that Star City holding room still felt like a damning betrayal. [1]

It was only a matter of time before he figured it out, if he hadn't already. TV existed in prison and she'd been on a few news reports ever since she started openly patrolling with Green Arrow in Star City. If anyone would be able to recognize her under the mask, it would be Cameron, especially considering her superhero name was _her civilian name_. She briefly wondered if he'd laugh at the recklessness there.

And then she started thinking about what else he would wonder if, no _when,_ he discovered her treachery. She imagined the look of shock that would go across his face. The confusion that would follow. The anger would be the most heartbreaking. She couldn't remember a time he had ever been genuinely angry at her.

 _Why didn't I warn him? Why didn't I walk away? Why_ – she ground that train of thought to a halt, forbidding herself from going down that familiar spiral.

Between the Team's (Wally's) suspicions about her, what she was hiding about her family, and their own awkward new-team dynamics, she didn't have the mental fortitude to think about what she could or couldn't have done for Cameron. Instead of addressing that particular demon, she kept those thoughts at bay, stowed away in the recesses of her mind somewhere surprisingly close to where her conflicted feelings about Ja- _Chesire_ seemed to be swirling these days.

Focusing back on the tablet, she saw that Cameron had the top bunk, so she automatically assumed that top bunk was the least favored position by his cellmate. Looking through the prison files – also hacked courtesy of Robin – she saw that his cellmate was some lower level metahuman criminal. There for a nonviolent bank robbery attempt, easily subdued by the police without intervention from any heroes because of his unwillingness to use the customers as hostages. First time offender too.

_Good. Less likelihood he's gonna give Cam any big problems._

"Why are you watching Cameron Mahkent?"

The sudden voice made her jerk and almost drop the tablet. Turning to the voice behind her, she saw Conner standing on the opposite side of the Cave's debriefing area, presumably coming from his room. He was standing at least forty feet away from her, leaning against the wall and giving her that mostly blank stare that he watched TV static with.

"How the hell can you tell what I'm staring at from all the way over there?" she exclaimed.

"I have kryptonian eyes. You might as well have been watching that on a 70 inch plasma TV," he responded in his normal monotone voice.

Right. _Damn aliens._

"That doesn't make it less creepy," she retorted, turning the tablet screen off as Conner walked closer.

"Is it any creepier than staring at a live feed of someone's prison cell?"

"This isn't creepy! This is…reconnaissance," she answered unconvincingly.

"Reconnaissance for what? You keeping an eye on Junior to see if the other villains make a move on him?" Conner asked, his facial expressions morphing to show some genuine concern. Sure, that was _exactly_ what she was doing, but Conner had no business knowing that. And from the tone on his voice, he was under the assumption that she expected him to know that.

"What? Why would you say that?"

He gave her a quizzical look. "Because he saved M'gann and I in Belle Revve after our cover got blown? By covering our escape right as the other villains were about to surround us? And we want to make sure he doesn't get attacked in retaliation –"

"He _saved_ you?!" Artemis asked, her voice rising dangerously high on the word "saved." Because that sounded exactly like the kind of last-second idiotic, morally good, self-destructive kind of behavior Cameron would participate in during a _freaking prison break_.

Conner gave her a confused look. "Batman & Green Arrow didn't mention it when they debriefed you guys?"

At the mention of their names Artemis's face went from a look of shock to anger. _Batman & GA. Of course they knew._

"Hell no!" she barked back, causing Conner to take a step back. He was still working on building up his social cues but he completely understood anger and it was coming off Artemis in waves. "They know that he helped you guys and they haven't even moved him to a different prison?!"

Before Conner could respond, the sound of the Zeta Tube authorization system rang through the cave. **_Recognize Batman 02, Green Arrow 08._**

 _Speak of the devil_ thought Artemis, as she stormed over to the Zeta Tubes just as the two senior Justice Leaguers emerged from the white haze, her face a contortion of rage.

"What. The. Hell." She growled at the two men.

Green Arrow immediately gave her a confused but wary look. "Uhh, hey Artemis what's the-"

"Ca-Icicle Junior! That's what!" she burst out, not even letting her mentor finish his sentence. "What the hell are you guys thinking?!"

"What do you mean?" asked the archer, still confused. Instead of answering him, his protégé simply barreled past him and stuck her finger right into the broad armored chest of the Dark Knight himself.

"You're supposed to be the world's greatest detective," she started, ignoring the twinge of pain from shoving her finger into the kevlar-laden bat symbol. "Don't you see a problem with leaving Icicle Junior in THAT prison?!"

"Leaving who now?" asked Green Arrow, his growing exasperation more evident with every syllable.

Both Artemis & Batman ignored him.

"He's a metahuman criminal. Being housed in a prison specifically built for metahuman criminals. What is the issue?"

"The issue is basic _common fucking sense_!" she yelled. Green Arrow's eyes expanded in shock, but Batman remained as impassive as ever.

Behind her Conner raised an eyebrow. He'd heard Wally, Artemis, and occasionally Robin exchange colorful language in their verbal spats. This was the first time he'd heard someone swear at one of the adults since the formation of the team.

"Artemis hold on a second–" started the elder archer, his brain finally catching up to the situation unfolding in front of him.

"He stopped a prison break! No, worse, he helped the superheroes who stopped a prison break escape. And you just left him there in the prison?"

"Wait, you're not supposed to know about that –" GA intervened again, eyes widening.

"Why not? I thought being part of the team meant being respected. And being kept in the loop. Or was all that talk about not judging a book by its cover just a bunch of BS?" she asked, staring Batman straight into his soulless cowl lens.

"Superboy, give us the room," ordered Batman, holding Artemis's gaze – or at least she thought he was under those white lens – as he dismissed the other teenager. Conner, hearing the erratic jackhammer rate that Artemis's heart was pumping at, did not object to the dismissal and made a beeline for his rooms. His walls were lead-lined at his request to stop himself from overhearing other conversations, and the entire situation made him uncomfortable enough to know that he shouldn't know anything about the following conversation unless he was explicitly informed about it.

Once Conner was gone, Batman acknowledged Artemis. "What is the exact nature of your connection to Icicle Jr?" he asked in his monotonously creepy Dark Knight voice.

"What kind of question is that?" she answered, half suspecting that Batman already knew the answer. If he did, he was an ass for asking her, and if he didn't, she wasn't going to give him or Green Arrow another reason to doubt her commitment to the hero gig. "If you have something to say, just say it!" she snarled.

"Woah, no one is saying anything!" intervened Green Arrow again, desperately trying to deescalate the situation before someone said anything they would regret. He sent Batman a look meant to tell him to _'deescalate the situation.'_

Gotham's savior apparently didn't get the memo. Or more likely, he just decided to ignore it.

"It was obvious you omitted information about the nature of your history with Icicle Junior. I didn't press earlier because it was irrelevant to the mission. Just like how we didn't debrief you on his actions at the end of the Belle Revve mission because it wasn't relevant to your mission."

"Is that why you made me go undercover as a snitch in the same precinct he was being held at? To see if I would go through with the mission? You made use him as some sort of loyalty test?"

"That's not what anyone's saying!" pleaded Green Arrow, who was very much not liking where this conversation was going.

"That's what he's saying!" accused Artemis, jabbing her finger at Batman agian.

"Because of the actions he took to save Superboy and Miss Martian, Cameron Mahkent is being processed for transfer to a juvenile detention facility, where he will likely be released after a few weeks. Until he is transferred, he is being kept under close supervision by the warden to ensure his safety from any other villains," stated Batman, as if this was just another normal mission debriefing.

"And you just trust the warden?! Why isn't he being transferred immediately?"

"We're monitoring the situation. The process of being transferred takes time, especially since he sued to be tried as an adult. And his father is at the head of the prison hierarchy, shielding him from most likely retribution attempts."

Artemis scoffed. "You don't know his dad if you think that Joar Mahkent is going to stick his neck out to protect his son."

"So you do know Icicle?" Batman asked. His tone didn't change, but to Artemis the accusation in his question rang loudly.

"That's what you tookaway from what I just said?!"

"That's enough, both of you!" yelled Green Arrow, physically putting himself in between Artemis and Batman before giving the Bat a hard glare. "Back off Bats. Go back to brooding in your cave or whatever the hell it is you do in your free time."

Batman narrowed his eye-slits at the emerald archer, who only deepened his own glare. Thankfully, the Dark Knight chose to remain silent, instead moving past them towards the direction of the training room. Artemis wondered if he was going to erase the security footage of this conversation. A small part of her hoped he did.

Green Arrow waited for Batman to be fully out of sight before turning back to his seething protégé, who was still staring furiously in the direction that the Bat had disappeared to. "Look, I know he's coming off as an ass, but he's just doing what he thinks it's in your best interest. In his own twisted Bat kind of way."

"You mean he was trying to run some PsyOps bullshit on me to test my loyalties. I've had enough of that from my own dad, I don't need it from Batman!" she fumed, still staring in the direction Gotham's oldest hero had walked off.

"Artemis," her protege interjected softly, "it's never easy to see a friend in prison." Suddenly he was talking to her in his Oliver Queen voice, not the Green Arrow one. This was the voice that was compassionate. Kind. Fatherly. It was enough of a change to get Artemis to stop glaring at Batman's shadow.

"Who said we were friends?" she asked, folding her arms over her chest.

Gre- _Oliver_ gave her a look. Like he was staring at a child who was denying eating the cake but had frosting all over their shirt.

She held under the glare for a few strenuous moments, before sighing in defeat. "It was a long time ago. Before he was officially 'Icicle Junior'. Before I was Artemis."

"For what it's worth Artemis, I checked in with the warden personally. He told me that so far nothing has happened."

"And you trust him?"

"Not necessarily, but we're keeping tabs on all the official incident reports where Junior's name may come up. If anything happens, we'll know."

"Isn't the point of being a hero stopping bad things from happening instead of waiting for them to happen?"

Oliver put a sympathetic hand on her shoulder. "Sometimes we don't have a choice but to sit and wait. If it makes you feel better, I'll give you access to my backdoor into the Belle Revve systems. That way you can check on him yourself."

It didn't make her feel better at all, but it was big display of trust from her mentor. Knowing that she'd feel better about it when she wasn't so wound up, she merely nodded and mumbled a weak "Thanks GA."

...

Conner found her in the training room after the elder proteges left, attacking some training dummies with extreme aggression. He leaned against the entrance to the training room, keeping his distance from her flying kicks and rapid fire punches. Not that they could hurt him.

"I'm not gonna ask how you know Cameron. I can tell it isn't exactly something you want to talk about," he began slowly. Artemis stopped punching the training dummies and sat at one of the benches, trying to catch her breath. She didn't look in his direction, but he continued anyway. "But I get it. You know, if you were friends with him somehow. He's not bad. Not deep down inside."

"How can you say that?" Artemis asked accusingly. "You don't even know him."

Conner shrugged. "We bonded in prison over father problems. He's actually really easy to talk to. You know, I'm going to visit him next week. Gonna pretend I'm part of his legal team so we can get a secluded visit, and I can see how he's holding up."

She didn't respond, still staring dead ahead at the training dummy.

"You don't have to decide now. Just let me know if you're interested and we can go together. I won't mention it to Green Arrow or Batman. Or don't say anything about it, and I won't mention it ever again."

…

_"Artemis, you have to leave these things in the past."_

That was all the sage advice she could ply from her mother about prison-life and what someone on the outside could do to help. She refused to elaborate on anything else and Artemis didn't feel like explaining just why she was so interested in learning the ins and outs of prison culture.

So leaving things in the past was all the advice she was getting on this. It was laughable really, because almost everything she'd done since she joined the team was part of an attempt leave her past. She hid her family history from all of her new teammates. She fought crime with other, legit superheroes to atone for the life of crime she was destined for. She even switched schools, turning in the familiar cruddiness of Gotham North for the cold stares and supposed _potential_ of the preppy Gotham Academy.

But how could she truly leave her past when she had to always keep her guard up from it? There were too many secrets to hide from the Team, who she was starting to consider as friends alarmingly fast. The longer she hid things from them the worse the fallout would be if they uncovered them, and it wasn't like her secrets were tucked in a box somewhere for her to hide. Red Arrow already knew she wasn't Oliver's niece, and her past was just...out there, running around in the night like a ghost. It wore that godawful hockey mask and kept wreaking havoc and finding ways to put her team in direct contact with him. Meanwhile her sister _,_ who she hadn't seen for so long she might as well have been a literal ghost, was out there, masquerading as _Cheshire_ of all people. And now Cam was in prison, not even a few months after her mother had finally gotten out.

 _How many things can I leave in the past?_ she asked herself bitterly.

And then a more chilling question came to the forefront of her mind.

_**Who** do I want to leave in the past?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My internship is in full swing now so once I get through the next 3ish chapters that I have mostly done updates will probably be closer to bi-weekly than weekly.
> 
> [1]Again a reference to the scene in the YJ Comics were Green Arrow has Artemis go undercover as a prisoner to get info from Icicle Jr. while they both waited in a holding room.


	13. Shadow of The Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In a moonlit alleyway, Artemis comes face to face with her past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is actually the chapter that inspired this whole thing. It was supposed to be a one-shot, and then I thought about doing a three-shot about Artemis convincing Cameron to switch sides. And then I just said to hell with it and it spiraled out of control.
> 
> Artemis is 16, Cameron is 17. Everyone else is their canon age.

**Late Spring, Team Year 2**

The sounds of gunshots and small explosion rang through the night as the inside of a relatively abandoned looking warehouse light up in a firefight. The whining of bullets ricocheting and bangs of grenade explosions coming from inside the decrepit building were only interrupted by loud cursing and grunts of pain from the occupants.

All in all, just another night in Gotham.

A figure escaped out one of the building's side windows, darting into a nearby alley. Moments later a golden haired, and particularly annoyed looking archer followed suit.

Normally, Artemis loved runners. There was something enjoyable about chasing down fleeing prey: Closing the gap, countering their evasive maneuvers, picking up on the frantic movements that were tell-tale signs of growing panic. None of that was more satisfying than the look in their eyes when she pounced on them and they realized they had to accept defeat. Often at the same time her military grade boots connected with their back, or ribs, or face.

But tonight, Artemis was just annoyed.

The Team had been assigned to scout a potential League of Shadows meeting in Gotham while Batman wrapped up an Arkham breakout. A tip indicated that some of the high-level players like Sportsmaster or even Deathstroke could be present. Their orders were to observe and alert Batman if they found any upper level members. The underlying message was clear: The League may have decided to trust the team and finally see them as more than just "sidekicks", especially after the events of the New Years party on the Watchtower, but they weren't going to risk placing their proteges in battle against some of the most hardened killers on the globe.

Again.

While this brought the normal groans of "being treated like babies" (Wally), Artemis was excited at the prospect of slapping the cuffs on her father, whether or not it was the League that did the actual takedown.

Unfortunately for the team, there had been no high-level meeting. Instead, they stumbled upon a group of Bane's Santa Prisca gang members doing a drug deal with Black Mask lackeys. Too small of a deal to warrant calling Batman and the League in, but too big to leave to the local police.

And so instead of gloating over the defeated, cuffed heap of her miserable mistake of a father, Artemis found herself running through the disgusting, crime ridden alleys of Gotham that she was so familiar with.

Apparently so was the person she was pursuing, his movements through the debris and turns into connecting alleys shifty but confident.

_Probably a local_ she thought as she rounded a corner leading down to an even narrower, darker alley. Her senses went on full alert as she adjusted to the darkness, and the danger that may lurk under its cover.

_Artemis. Status report?_ Asked Kaldur over the mindlink the team shared.

_Following our runner into the alley._

_You need backup?_ That was Wally now, his voice tinged with concern, as it had been on basically every single mission since they officially started dating. Artemis groaned internally. She appreciated his concern but they'd already been warned by Black Canary that working with a romantic partner in the field can cause complications, and the last thing Artemis needed was another soul-baring therapy session on Dinah's couch.

_I'm good._

She heard what sounded like a huge concrete pillar being smashed and felt the vibrations of the warehouse shaking as she sprinted through the alley. Something heavy had just broken through something else heavy, not a good indication of how the fight was going for the rest of the team.

_Ouch_ grunted Connor over the mind link.

"How do you even grunt telepathically?" muttered the golden haired archer, as she turned into another side-alley, her bow already drawn and a trick arrow strung.

What she saw when she finished rounding the corner froze her in her tracks.

Her prey had stopped, trapped by a dead end and panting frantically, clearly out of breath. Moonlight managed to sneak by Gotham's perpetual cloud cover and thick air pollution, basking both her and the fleeing criminal in light. Hearing her arrival, he turned rapidly to face her, arms iced up and his arm transformed into spikes that he was about to throw, until he too froze, recognition dawning in his eyes.

Artemis Crock was staring straight into the eyes of Cameron Mahkent.

"A-artemis?" he exhaled, in between his breaths, his arm lowering slightly.

She didn't respond. Couldn't really, as her mind reeled from the surprise and her eyes assessed her…foe?

_He looks skinnier than normal. And paler._

The moonlight reflected sharply on his icy exoskeleton, contrasted with glint in her ashy grey eyes.

"I thought you were still in juvie," she said, trying to sound authoritative. Instead, her words came out almost as a whisper. Mentally she racked her memories for the last time she'd checked on his prison records. She'd slowed down once he'd gotten out of Belle Revve and immediate danger. Between the hectic missions and adjusting to Gotham Academy...suddenly she realized it had been months.

Cameron winced at the mention of his experience in the justice system. His memories were not fond.

"Served my time, no thanks to you _Artemis,_ " he responded, almost spitting out her name.

The acid in his tone was new, and it cut deep. She wondered how much of it she deserved and how much was him lashing out at her for not being in the same position as he was: A cornered fugitive, running from the good guys after a deal gone wrong. In the back of her mind, she remembered how many times she _had_ been in the exact same position as him, often with him right by her side.

But she couldn't afford to let her mind go down that rabbit hole. Not right now. So she focused on the task at hand: Capturing an escaped criminal.

"You've been out what? A week? A month? And you're already associating with low-lives like Bane and Black Mask? Don't even have the decency to stay low for a little bit?" she spat back, masking her shock – and hurt – with venom.

They both knew she was lying. The game worked differently when you were fighting the law. No vacations, especially not for those who screw up a prison break.

"Got to earn my way back into the old head's good graces. That's what happens when spare a few capes," he snarled. "Until then, I get to play errand boy."

They eyed each other warily for a few more silent seconds, even though it felt more like hours for the both of them. She searched his body language for signs of a lie, already knowing she wouldn't find any. They'd both seen how mistakes were treated in the criminal underworld. There was very little mercy involved.

The longer they sized each other up, the more things they noticed. The extra inches added, sharper features, longer hair on both sides: All things that couldn't fully be appreciated in the quick, hushed conspiratorial conversations of a police station. Then there were their eyes.

He could see the concern in hers, even if he didn't dare believe it. She could see the pure pain in his, even though she couldn't try to comfort it.

Suddenly, Artemis felt very tired. The special kind of fatigue that didn't come from fighting, but from after a conversation with her sister or from watching her mother roll around the house in a wheelchair.

Her grip on her bow loosened, if only slightly. The spikes on his arm retreated, if only a few centimeters or so. For two souls raised in a culture of constant violence and paranoia, that was as close to a cease fire as they could get. Millimeters sacrificed where a mile-long chasm stood.

Cameron broke the silence first, his voice much quieter now, almost sorrowful.

"You know, I was happy when I found out you got out of the game. Even after what you did to me. But you know...I would've thought you'd at least come visit. Thought everything we went through would be worth that." _That I'd be worth an explanation_ went unsaid, but certainly heard.

He was only telling half the truth. There was no way he wanted her to see him after the failed prison break. He didn't want her pity, or her help. But it did hurt that she never even _tried_ to check up on him. Never even tried to own up to what she did.

"I-" _I tried. I wanted to. I couldn't. Couldn't face you. Couldn't sit across a glass window like with mom._ She tried to take up Conner's offer. To check in on him in-person, but she couldn't couldn't bring herself through with walking through the gates of Belle Revve. She didn't want to face the look of accusation and betrayal.

The look that was on his face right now. The one that hurt way more than it should have. _Deflect, deflect, deflect_ screamed the voice in her head.

"You're too good to be doing this," she responded, side-stepping the unspsoken accusation.

"Whose too good for this? Me? _Scum_ like me? Because that's what they teach you about us in the goody-two shoes club," he snorted, his face contorted into a veneer of relaxed contempt. He wanted her to believe that seeing her didn't really affect him. That the memories of their shared childhood – their shared trauma – meant nothing to him after her betrayal.

The tension in his shoulders and the ice thickening around his feet gave him away.

Artemis was about to respond, but another explosion came from the warehouse, this one much louder than the last, and the ripple effect almost knocked them both to their feet.

_Wally. That was so not traught,_ complained Robin over the mind-link, and Artemis was so very grateful that she'd mastered the mind-link properly. No accidentally broadcasting her conversations to the whole team.

_Hey, its working isn't it Boy Wonder?_ retorted the speedster and just as Conner was grunting some short, sarcastic response, Cameron's out-loud voice cut through the mind babble.

"Sounds like your friends are finishing up in there. So Arty," he said, flicking the nickname off his tongue casually, like it didn't feel like a life time ago since he last used it. "We gonna do this dance or what?"

Artemis instinctively got back into her combat pose, trying to ignore the pang nostalgia at the old nickname. Cocking back her trick arrow, she mentally cursed herself for letting her guard down. She could hear Black Canary chastising her for letting her guard down. _"You should always be acting, never reacting."_

Nicer than anything her dad would say.

The hard silence permeated the air once again as the stood in silence. For whatever reason, neither struck first, both awaiting the other to move.

_Artemis, are you ok?_ Asked M'gann. _You're projecting a lot of mental stress through the mind-link._

Artemis cursed inwardly, and then cursed again when she realized that M'gann probably picked up on that too.

_Artemis? You traught?_ asked Robin

Shit. The whole team must've caught that one.

"Come on Arty, what are you waiting for?" Cameron taunted, but there was no playful tone to his voice. It sounded hollow.

_Artemis, status report._ Kaldur now.

"Leave them," she said aloud, struggling to maintain the barrier between this conversation and the one happening over the mind-link.

"What?" asked Cameron, his brow wrinkling in confusion.

"The shadows. Your dad. All of it, leave them. I-I can vouch for you. We can get you out of the life free and clear. You could even train with us, stay at our HQ," she continued, her words coming out faster and faster.

Yes, this could work. She could convince Green Arrow & Black Canary & the rest of the league. _Cameron hasn't committed any major crimes. I know he's a good person at heart. And Superboy can vouch for him._ The thoughts were all coming to her head faster than words could out of her mouth. Batman would want any intel Cameron could give as proof of his loyalty, and that wouldn't be hard to get from him. They had more than enough space for him at Mount Justice. Him and Wally wouldn't get along but that would probably be hilarious to watch play out. He could finally meet her mom and -

"You know I can't," he replied monotonously. He said it with such finality, and resounding defeat, that Artemis knew there was no point arguing. It was the same tone she'd heard in almost every conversation she'd had with her sister about walking away from Cheshire. The tone of someone who couldn't even fathom the thought of walking away, let alone actually doing it.

She opened her mouth for a quick retort, but it was like her mind had hit the emergency brake, just like the night he left. She knew it wasn't fair. It _wasn't_. She wanted to grab Cameron by his idiotic icy shoulders and shake him until-

_Artemis, babe, you there?_ Great. Wally again, with that worry in his voice. Enough worry that if she hadn't just chewed him out for being overprotective, he would have already been at her side.

She sighed and lowered her bow. If this dragged out any longer the Team would show up, and it would be game over for Cameron.

"Go. They're coming for you." Artemis almost couldn't believe what she was saying. Letting a known villain escape? After all the work she had done to prove to the team that she was a true hero? But she knew what would happen to him if he was arrested. He wasn't a minor anymore: They'd send him right back to Belle Revve.

He hesitated for a split second, waiting for her to release her arrow and encase him in a net or a foam or hit him with a boxing glove. Waiting for the other shoe to drop. Picking up on the hesitation – and ignoring how much it hurt, because a year ago he wouldn't have thought twice about turning his back to her – she started putting her arrows back in the quiver to show she was serious. It wasn't until she was fully disarmed that he finally moved, icing up the wall behind him and punching a hole right through it.

Escape route secured, he turned back to look at his…old friend? New enemy?

"You could have just waited for me, you know," he said. He tried to say it coolly, as if the words didn't bother him, but his truth was expressed in the still lingering hurt in his eyes and the way his shoulders slumped from the burden of a world too cold even for a cyrokinetic.

And then he turned and ran.

_Artemis? BABE?_ yelled Wally over the comm link, snapping her out of her stupor.

God, she wanted to throw up.

_Sorry, got lost in the alleys. Almost had him, but he slipped by me_ she responded. Later, she'd feel disturbed by how quickly and easily she'd lied to her teammates, but not right now. Now she wanted them out of her head, and far, faaar away from her thoughts.

She got half of her wishes: The bust was a success and the team was too distracted by their own post-victory chatter to notice her half-hearted responses or question her half-hearted demeanor. She was quiet, stuck in the exact thoughts she wanted to run away from.

"Babe is…is something wrong?" Wally asked hesitantly, after they debriefed in the Batcave and she was getting dropped off at home. Poor, sweet Wally. Wally with his normal family and non-criminal parents and suburban life. Wally who just wouldn't be able to understand.

"Yea I'm good, just mad that he got away."

_Another lie._

"That's ok, we'll catch him next time. Scum like him, they always come back."

She almost flinched at his words, but tried to focus on the fact that he took her answer at face value and wasn't asking more questions.

_Cameron would have seen right through my lies._

_"You could have just waited for me."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I listened to the table reading during DC FanDome. I recommend y'all listen, it's not the same as a true episode but it was still fun. Thanks to everyone who reads, leaves a kudos, and especially to those who leave a comment. You guys make my day :)


	14. And When You Fell...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trouble brews in Star City.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to take this time to make my mandatory "The 5 year gap was stupid and ruined a lot of character building potential" rant about this otherwise great show. There. I did it.
> 
> Ages: Artemis is 17, Cam is 18.

**Fall, Team Year 3**

She was on a solo patrol in Star City when she recognized a suspicious character exiting one of those late night convenience stores that populated the seedier parts of town. There wasn't that much noticeable about him, except for the unnatural calm he exuded walking through this area at night. Star City wasn't Gotham, but crime existed. Following him from the rooftops, she noticed a glimpse of a sword handle peek out from under his trench coat when he passed a flickering street light. There was only one group that she'd ever known to walk around Star City with swords instead of guns.

_Ollie's gonna pop a vein when he finds out Shadows are in town._

So naturally, Artemis followed the idiot to see what type of trouble he was up to. The longer she followed him, the more she was convinced he was some sort of low level trainee, or worse, someone who had been outsourced. His surveillance evasion maneuvers were sloppy, showing exaggerated confidence or extreme recklessness, and he led her right to the abandoned warehouse his comrades were.

She assumed he was some outsourced mercenary, because a true Shadows operative would know to expect death for such a colossal mistake.

 _I mean really, when even the Shadows was having trouble finding good help these days you know the job market must be bleak_ she thought to herself, a small smirk appearing on her face.

Crouching on a rooftop adjacent to the warehouse, she scanned the building with her thermal goggles. She could make out several heat signatures moving inside. Enough to cause a fight, but not too many for her take on by herself, especially if she got the jump on the perimeter patrol. If things got hairy, Green Arrow was at most 10 minutes away from intervening.

She took her quiver off her back and took stock of her inventory.

"Not enough trick arrows," she murmured to herself. Taken too many breaking up a gas station robbery, and then later an attempted gang-rape. She _may_ have used one or two or ten more boxing glove arrows than necessary breaking up the gang rape. There might have been a few more broken bones than necessary.

Not like they hadn't deserved it.

 _Looks like I'm gonna be calling GA after all._ With her depleted weapons inventory and the number of goons present, and the fact that they were Shadows henchmen (goon-ish or not, they were dangerous), going in alone was an unnecessary risk.

Reaching for her comms, she relished thinking about the can of whoop-ass that was about to be opened on these idiots. Ever since Jade, no _Chesire_ , had joined their ranks, The League had a special place in her heart. And at the bottom of her combat boots.

She was pondering what goatee-related insult to greet Ollie with when something hit her in the back of the head.

…

She woke up with a throbbing headache and a bruise that felt bigger than Wally's ego on the back of her head. Groaning, she moved and was immediately alarmed by the chains she felt around her arms and legs.

_Shit._

Taking a few moments to let her eyes adjust to the darkness of her surroundings, she realized her bow and quiver were missing, and so was the hidden knife she kept around her ankle. Reaching for her ear, her heart rate spiked when her fingers did not find her communicator.

_Shit. Shit._

They'd gotten the jump on her, and know she was in some sort of cell somewhere. She willed herself to calm her nerves, letting her training kicking in.

_Focus. Take in your surroundings. Have situational awareness._

Brick cell, metal chains. Dirty floor. No window. Metal bars. Likely still night-time outside, based off her jumbled internal clock. She wondered if her communicator had gotten through to GA before she got knocked out. She cursed herself for letting them get the jump on her.

She heard movement coming from outside the cell and looked to see a pair of sneering goons staring back at her through the metal bars. Well, they had masks on, but knowing the Shadows, they were most certainly sneering.

"Well, if it ain't one of the junior justice league members," cackled one of them.

"Hey ain't this Green Arrow's sidekick? What do they call her again, Miss Arrow? Arrowwete or some shit?" joked the other, elbowing his partner.

Clearly she was right about them being mercenaries. These were not the typical Shadows "silent and deadly" type. That alone increased her chances of survival dramatically. She silently thanked Batman for his recent crusade against the Shadows over the last few months, mentally taking back every snide comment she made about the endless recon missions it had meant for The Team.

"Nah she has stupid ass Greek or Roman name. Something all special and shit, ain't that right girlie?" replied Goon #1.

"Keep laughing bozo. Any moment now the Justice League is gonna come through here and cut me loose, and then I'm gonna put my foot so far up your ass," snapped Artemis.

"Oh, I'm sure they would have little girl. Ya'know, if we hadn't already found your tracker in your crossbow," Goon #1 said, cutting her off.

"And the other one in your quiver," chimed in Goon #2.

"And the two more embedded in your boots. Girlie, I gotta thank you for letting me get the jump on you. If the bosses found out I got tailed and didn't notice, well, let's just say it sounds much better for me to say I let you follow me as part of a trap," continued the first one, and the two broke out into laughter at their 'good' fortune.

Artemis quelled the snarl crawling up her throat, instead keeping her face drawn stone cold in her best impression of her sister. There was no doubt these two got off on being assholes, and she wasn't going to give them the pleasure of showing them any sort of emotion as they left, clearly enjoying themselves.

As their voices got quieter and their laughter trailed off, she didn't change her expression, but inside her mind started to race as the horrible reality dawned on her. No trackers, no comms, and no distress signal before she had disappeared. Meaning it would be at least a few hours before people were truly concerned.

_Shit._

…

She started to lose track of how long she'd been in their captivity. Hours? No, too long. Days? Definitely not more than a week. At some point they'd drugged her and moved her to a different cell but it felt like the same building. Whatever they used made her too disoriented to track time in any reliable way, and it had the side effect of some pretty lucid dreams, only adding to her confusion when she did wake.

There was no window in her new cell, and no cracks in the wall for sunlight, or moonlight, to seep through and indicate the passage of time. The only hint she had was how many times they offered her food, or at least how many times she was awake enough to register if the bowl in front of her was new.

At first she'd refused to eat the nasty gray gruel that they passed as food, but eventually the hunger gnawed at her until she forced herself to shove it down. She reasoned if they were going to kill her, they would have done it much more colorfully than poisoning her food. Nevertheless, it was amazing how crappy the food they acquired was. Almost as if they were going out of their way to find the least edible gruel that wouldn't kill her, which she wouldn't put past them. They'd also given a bucket for her…other needs. One that they never emptied and that she almost never used, especially given how there was always a guard near her cell.

She didn't trust them not to stare either, and in those moments she wished she had been captured by actual members of the League of Shadows. At least _they_ had some twisted sense of honor.

Even without her tracker, she trusted the Justice League to find her. She trusted the Team to find her. By now, Wally would have scoured every alley in Star City, Dick would have hacked everything even remotely hackable trying to track her movements, and M'gann would have wrecked the minds of whomever was refusing to cooperate. Nevermind whatever the hell Green Arrow & Black Canary were doing to every thug in sight.

Yes, any second now the idiots guarding her would get their skulls smashed in.

_So what's taking them so long?_

…

_"Hey, look at what I can do!" exclaimed Cameron, jumping onto his feet with far more excitement than seemed appropriate for a 13-year-old._

_Artemis was in her room, hanging out with her old friend, and staring in awe at a beautiful creation. A rainbow of colors had lit up her usually dark room: Faint hues of green, purple, yellow, red, blue took radiated beauty. The rays – waves? – of light around her moved with a sort of rhythm to them that only added to the display._

_"H-how can you even do that?" she asked, her voice gushing with awe._

_"I-I'm not sure. I've only ever done it once before, and last time it was different colors. I think it has something to do with my emotions."_

_"This is..this is amazing."_

_The two sat down on Artemis's bed, basking in the sight before them. For a few blissful moments, they were just two kids living a life full of ugliness who were appreciating something beautiful._

_After a while of sitting in silence, Cameron spoke up, his voice a little bit more than a whisper._

_"Don't tell my Dad. I-I don't want him to know I can do this….He…he makes me do things with my powers."_

_Her hand reached out to cover his and squeezed it reassuringly._

_"Don't worry Cam. I always got your back."_

_"We've got each other's backs" he corrected with a crooked smile._

_"Hey Artemis?" he asked._

_"Yea Cam?"_

_"Artemis?" he repeated, his voice sounding more distant now._

_She opened her mouth to respond again, but for some reason she couldn't._

"ARTEMIS" hissed the voice, jolting her fully awake.

It took her a few seconds to adjust back to the dark light and for the fog of the dream to clear up. This dream had taken her to a memory she hadn't thought about in a while. Memories of a certain old friend she wished she could forget.

If it only it were that easy.

When her eyes finally adjusted to the darkness enough to see who stood on the other side of the cell bars, she was convinced that the dreams had escalated into full blown hallucinations.

"C-cam?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun dun! Cliffhanger! This chapter got kind of long so I ended up splitting it two. Also the flashback scene from this chapter was the inspiration for another short fic I published called Dancing Lights. I consider that fic to be just an extended scene of sorts from the flashback. Part 2 of this chapter will be up in a few days.


	15. ...I Caught You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From the jaws of defeat, a friendly face emerges.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ages: Artemis is 17, Cameron is 18.

**Fall, Team Year 3**

"C-cam?" she cracked, her voice sore, and she felt a sudden wave of relief at the sight of him, as if it were Ollie or Dinah herself standing in front of the cell.

"What the hell Artemis? How'd you get here?" he asked, keeping his voice low.

"Your idiot Shadow friends got the jump on me. I-where am I?"

"In a dingy Shadows stash-house being outsourced to…" Cameron trailed off for a second, before continuing. "Never mind." History had already taught him the dangers of giving excess information to capes.

It didn't matter. Artemis was already making a mental note that she was right about the Shadows outsourcing parts of their infrastructure to other villains. It explained why the goons acting like Shadows operatives were so subpar.

Cameron noticed the way her eyebrows furrowed slightly, a tell that she was processing new information, and outlasted the urge to bang his head against the bars. Suppressing his anger at himself for _already_ giving out unnecessary information, he glanced side to side to make sure none of his accomplices had returned, before continuing.

"I was sent here in advance on behalf of my dad and some of guys up the food chain to watch over the idiots here. They were bragging about having captured 'something big' but…" he exhaled loudly, ruffling his hands through his hair. "God, I'm happy I'm the one who came."

Artemis almost thought she caught a glint of worry in his eyes.

"Damn it Artemis, the only reason they haven't un-masked you yet is because someone higher up is supposed to 'have the honor' of doing it. Fuck.…if my dad and them find out you're the one here, _Green Arrow's_ freakin' sidekick..." his voice once again trailed off into a whisper.

He didn't have to finish his sentence. A Justice League protégé, in the clutches of any villain? Especially when they unmasked her and found out that he had turned her back on The Life? Killing her right away wouldn't make a proper example out of her. No, they'd string her up and take their sweet time, making her regret every life decision she'd ever made leading up to that point.

A small part of her wondered if her dad's stature in the underworld would be enough to save her life, but she snuffed that hope out quickly.

She was _never_ going to have to rely on him again. Her Team would get to her. They always saved their own.

And then for a sickening moment her mind went to Qurac: To a smoldering warehouse, the chilling laughter of a clown, and the lingering smell of burnt human flesh. The teama- _family_ member that the Team didn't get to on time. She forced herself to shove that image out of her mind, but she couldn't stop the bile from moving up to the bottom of her throat. She gulped it back down, and forced her attention back to the situation at hand.

"The entire league is turning up Star City for me. You shouldn't be here when they find me," she warned.

Cameron looked at her incredulously. "Star City? Artemis, you haven't been in Star City for days. They moved you here a while ago. You're in Gotham now."

 _What. The. Fuck._ How the hell had she been moved to the opposite coast of the country and not noticed? How the hell was she in Batman's city and he hadn't noticed?

Whatever words she was going to say in response were killed by the sounds of the other goons returning. The noise also prompted Cameron to start moving away from the bars. As it was, his street cred hadn't recovered from the Belle Revve incident, but it was somewhat out of the gutter. Getting caught having friendly conversations with the "enemy" was an easy way to drag it right back down.

"Just sit tight Artemis. I got your back," he whispered, and she told herself that those words really shouldn't give her as much comfort as they should have.

…

He came back a few hours later, berating Goons #1 & #2 for their "idiocy" and "complete incompetence", with a few laden expletives tossed in for added effect. The two must have been newer lackeys, because they seemed genuinely concerned by the amount of vitriol, they were receiving from a villain that – no disrespect – was not actually respected by almost anyone in the villain community.

"The fact that you've had a caped brat sitting in the same cell for days is disgusting! Do you have any idea how much time you've given her to scout out the cell for weaknesses? Figure out an escape plan?" he sneered at the two.

"But sir, this cell is entirely secured-" responded Goon #1

"I'm sure it was. Just like Belle Revve is secure, but you don't see me in there do you?"

"Uh-" sputtered Goon #2, as Goon #1 just looked at him confused. As far as they knew, Cameron had been released from Belle Revve legally, not broken out. However, he was loud, iced up, and the son of a prominent villain, and they were still the contracted help.

And he was sent to supervise them.

"I'm moving the prisoner to the auxiliary safehouse a few blocks from here. Now," barked Cameron.

"Woah woah, we don't have any orders to do that," protested Goon #2.

"I'm giving you the order!"

"We don't take orders from you _junior,_ " responded Goon #1, starting to recover from the initial shock of being steamrolled and emphasizing the disrespect in his voice.

"No," Cameron responded coolly. "You just take orders from the very senior bosses that sent me here to supervise you. Maybe I should call them and tell them you're being difficult."

His threat hung in the air, and the two goons gave each other tense looks, trying to assess if either wanted to challenge the young criminal. The disrespect was annoying, but both decided it wasn't worth the headache of dealing with their superiors. Neither spoke.

Cameron gave them a mean grin.

"That's what I thought. Now go get the keys and open this damn door."

…

He slipped her a knife the second they were out of sight from the two goons, who were glaring daggers into his back.

"Start working on the rope," He whispered, shoving her roughly for the benefit of any cameras that may be watching. "You need to be ready to make your move when we get to a blind spot, where there'll be no camera."

"And what exactly is my move?" she hissed, slowly but methodically working on the ropes that bound her hands behind her back. He guided her outside of the decrepit looking warehouse and out into a dark back alley that looked even worse. Once they were outside any doubts about whether he was telling the truth about her location vanished as the overwhelming essence of Gotham assaulted her senses.

"Under my 3rd rib, left side of my chest. The spot there never healed properly from the warehouse incident."

Artemis winced. Even all this time later, mentioning _the incident_ brought up too many bad memories. It still made occasional appearances in her nightmares.

"You'll have to stab me right there. Don't hold back, you'll have to shove it in hard to get through the armor and do enough real damage to make it convincing."

" _What?"_ she whispered harshly, unsure if she'd heard him right. Sane people didn't ask you to shove a knife in their ribs.

"Keep it down, don't want any outside cameras picking up anything," he hissed back, guiding her to a side alley to their right. "Shadows are always updating their tech, and they didn't tell me what kind of security this place has."

"You seem real concerned about cameras for a guy who was super chatty at my cell."

"Ironically enough that's the one blindspot in that entire section of the safehouse." He didn't mention his suspicions that was purposefully done to avoid there being any evidence of what this particular group of mercenaries did to their prisoners.

"I'm not gonna stab you Cam. Especially not there."

"Well _Arty_ if you've got a better plan, then I'm all ears," he answered, guiding her through the dinghy alleyways.

"I do have a better idea."

"Well I'm all ears."

"How about you come with me. Ditch this life."

Cameron inhaled sharply. Because she was in front of him she couldn't see him, but if she could she knew she would have seen his muscles tense and his face contorted into that constipated look he had when he was trying too hard to keep calm.

"Artemis, we've talked about this-" he started, his voice low.

"You have no outstanding warrants and I know because I keep a tab on that," she blurted out. "You helped Superboy & Miss Martian. And now saving me from the Shadows? The Justice League will welcome you with a damn red carpet. You don't have to worry about getting thrown in prison."

"It's not whether or not they'll welcome me. I can't just leave," he muttered through gritted teeth.

"Leave what? This? Dirty safehouses and midnight prison transfers? Even for the criminal underworld this is low level," she fired back.

"I can't just leave my dad behind!" he whisper-shouted back at her.

Artemis let out a frustrated growl, battling the desire to turn around and punch him in the face. Because there it was. Again. _At the end of the day, villain or hero, it always comes down to daddy issues doesn't it?_

"You mean like how he left you behind? What the hell is it going to take Cam? Both of our fathers are assholes, but between the two yours takes the cake. You want to keep throwing your life away for that? For him?"

Cameron's hold on her tightened, but he didn't slow their pace down.

"He's still my dad Artemis," he responded tersely. "And he's getting old. He needs someone to watch his back, inside and outside of prison."

"And whose going to watch your back Cam? Huh?" she asked defiantly, before adding softly: "You need to leave him."

Cameron didn't respond right away, instead letting the sound of her boots crunching on littered trash and the distant hum of the city fill the silence.

Finally, he exhaled deeply. "I can't Artemis. You know I can't."

He turned her into yet another side-alley roughly, almost making her trip at the sudden change in direction.

"This is the best spot to make a move. I know they didn't set up any security here but you've got to act fast. You've got 10, maybe 15 minutes before they realize something is up and come looking for me."

"15 minutes for them to get suspicious about a 5 minute cell transfer? Don't you think you're being a little generous?"

"No. They'll make their own assumptions about why I'm taking so long with the pretty female prisoner," he answered, and she didn't need to be a genius to figure out what those assumptions were. "Once you stab me, knock me unconscious and make a beeline towards that purple looking building. Once you get there take the next two lefts and you'll be on the main road-" he slipped her a burner phone – "Out of range of the cell signal jammer. You'll be able to call for help while you keep moving."

His voice was monotone, as if he was reading from a script he'd already practiced a thousand times. Artemis knew from their childhood that it was a coping mechanism he used, when he was dealing with something very unpleasant. For a second, she wondered if it was letting her go, or staying behind that was paining him.

When he spun her around and grabbed her shoulders, she knew without a doubt it was the latter.

"You're going to have to make this look good. And Artemis," his voice changed to reflect some urgency now, "When your friends ask what happened, my name better _not_ come up."

"What the hell am I supposed to say?"

"That it was dark. That you were drugged. Honestly I don't care what you say, but I don't need Superman hunting me down for kidnapping you, and I definitely don't need people finding out I let you go. Understood?"

"That's so much stupider than you just coming with me!"

He shot her a look that, even in the darkness of night, showed no room for negotiation. The same look Jade gave her the last time they spoke about Cheshire retiring. That look ended with her pleading, begging her sister to just go home to their mother. To walk away for just a little bit. For her troubles, she got nothing but cutting remarks out of her sister then. She wondered if it would be more effective here. If her old friend would be able to say no so callously, like her sister.

But Artemis _hated_ begging.

"Artemis, if you don't start doing something soon, you're gonna have to do a lot more than stab me in order for me to sell this."

Besides, she decided she probably didn't want to know the answer.

"Damn it Cam," she exhaled, removing the now torn ropes from her wrist.

He waiting exactly three seconds for her to get the ropes off before swinging at her, blatantly overextending his morphed icicle hammer and comically missing her body. She ducked, and his ribs clearly exposed, jammed the knife exactly where he told her before kicking the back of his legs with force. In three moves, she brought him to his knees with a grunt and a pained expression on his face.

Artemis's emotions rapidly fluctuated between anger and worry. Either she had used much more force than he expected, or he had definitely lied about how weak that armor was supposed to be. Either way, she could already feel the blood pooling out of the wound and onto her hands. It was warm, a stark contrast to the icy exterior that made his armor.

She let go of her hold on the knife, and Cameron grimacing at the new tinge of pain for even the slight difference in pressure on the wound. He didn't notice her keep moving to pick up something from the ground, his mind already putting the finishing touches on just what exactly he was going to say when the Shadows – or worse, his father – came asking questions about how he let a prisoner escape.

When she hit him over the head with the rock, he blacked out before his face touched the dirty alleyway.

It took Artemis a few minutes to reach the main street Cameron had pointed her in the direction of, her muscles cramped from days of being shackled. Now back on a familiar main road of Gotham, she immediately recognized where she was. Rather than call someone on the burner phone, she booked it down the street, moving as fast as she could in the direction where she knew there was a Zeta-Tube hidden. The streets had the occasional pedestrian, but this was Gotham and they were used to beat up looking vigilantes running down the streets. No one gave her trouble all the way to the Zeta-Tube, and less than fifteen minutes after she made it out of the alleys she was teleporting herself straight to Mount Justice.

With the Zeta-Tube loudly announcing her arrival, it took little more than a few seconds for the residents of Mount Justice to crowd her. Kaldur, Megan, Zatanna, Conner, & Robin were all still present, and guessing from how alert they were, she knew that they had not been asleep despite it being the middle of the night.

She took one step forward and basically collapsed to her knees, the exhaustion of the last several days taking over now the was finally in friendly territory. The voices of her friends started to crowd her auditory senses, jumbling and mixing together all at once.

"Oh my god Artemis-"

"You do not look traught"

"Girl I'm so happy to see you-"

"Someone call Wally!"

"-He's still searching in Star City-"

The adrenaline crash draining her, she slumped against someone with absurd strength – probably Conner – who picked her up like a feather. The last thing she remembered before passing out was looking down and staring at the blood on her hands.

It wasn't her blood.

_"We've got each other's backs."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise I have actual comfort planned in the future of this fic to counter all the hurt, but let's keep it real, Artemis & Cameron have a lot of hurt in their life. I'm not sure how long this fic will end up being, but I've got an outline of what I definitely want, a bunch of chapters in suuuper rough drafts, and then random ideas that pop into my head and get added to the list and make me rewrite other chapters. We'll see where it goes lol. Thanks for reading!


	16. Home Visit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cameron makes a home visit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ages: Artemis is 18, Cam is 19. For more context, this would be the summer after their high school graduation, when Artemis & Wally are moving to Palo Alto to go to college and live together. A few months after the last two chapters. Also at this point don't squint too hard at the ages from chapter to chapter, my age math is bad. General rule of thumb: Cameron is a year and half older than Artemis in this canon.

**Late Summer, Team Year 3**

_I really shouldn't be here._

That was the thought that kept ringing through Cameron's head as he stood in the living room of a house empty of any other occupants but clearly in the midst of a move.

Staring at the wall on the living room, he eyes honed in on a diploma framed on the wall, the name _Artemis Lian Crock_ written on it in bold formal print. The entire Gotham Academy crest was embossed into the material with flare, as if to scream _look at me & my fancy prep school._ Besides it a different, much tamer looking diploma was also displayed, belonging to someone named Wallace West from Keystone High School.

_"You don't need school junior. You need training,"_ his father's voice rang in the back of his head, sneering with contempt even in the memory. Outside of the forced schooling in jail, Cameron never went back to school. Once he turned 18 and got released from juvie, even after he settled the worst of the bruised egos over the Belle Revve incident, he never saw the reason to go back. His father certainly had other plans for him and, all things considered, he just didn't see the use for a formal education in his line of work.

And yet, staring at the two diplomas, Cameron felt something suspiciously like sorrow. As if he was robbed of something. His gut churned, but whether it was jealousy or disgust, he didn't know.

Jealousy or disgust at what? He wasn't sure about that either.

The diplomas were the only two items hanging on the wall. A beacon of organization and tinge of homey-ness that still eluded the rest of the house. All around the living room sat boxes in various states of open, closed, and half empty. A rug adorned the floor, and he could see a small coffee table tucked away in the corner, clearly waiting to be placed in it's final destination. On the coffee table was a picture of a blonde – Artemis – with a dog and some redhead guy.

It took him one look at the redhead to recognize him. _Kid Idiot._ Of course she was dating, no, living, with the most annoying member of her stupid junior Justice League. _God._ It took two more seconds after that to put two and two together to realize Wally West was likely the aforementioned idiot's name.

_Well. That could come in handy later._

With this new tidbit of information in mind he moved towards the kitchen, where he saw that it was barely more organized than the living room: Dishes were placed about haphazardly. A coffee machine sat plugged on the counter, half of the last brew still sitting in it. There were some university letters stuck on the fridge along with some more homey-looking pictures of the couple and their various friends. He didn't recognize most of them aside from Superboy, but he assumed they were also members of the junior justice league team. He did let out a snicker at the sight of the Kid Flash & Wonder Woman fridge magnets holding them in place, and even pondered opening the fridge and stealing some food just out of spite, but didn't.

Opening another person's fridge and rifling through their food seemed like an unnecessary violation of privacy. A funny consideration for someone who was breaking and entering.

He took a breath and left the kitchen to roam the rest of the house. Two bedrooms, one completely empty, the other with a few boxes in it that had yet to be opened. Not so much as a bed in either one. That bathroom was even more bare-bones, with only a tube of toothpaste and one (one?) toothbrush.

It was clear the residents of this house were only barely starting to move in. And yet the house already looked so…normal. Pedestrian. Average.

Like it wasn't housing two capes.

_What the hell am I doing here?_ he asked himself again.

He knew he should leave. Leave before someone, anyone, the occupants especially, came and started asking questions. Before someone called the authorities, or more likely, other superheroes. He didn't imagine they would take kindly to a criminal breaking and entering in one of their own's private residence, and he didn't want to have to explain _why_ he knew who lived here.

The idea of going back to Belle Revve because of this made him chuckle darkly. That would be just his luck: Getting tossed back to the wolves for something so mundane it might earn him an extra beating just _because_. No way his father would bother to save him from any broken bones either.

_God forbid the capo has to expend some of his precious energy defending his own son._

Later, he would blame that bitter internal monologue about his father for distracting him from the sound of a car parking outside. Or the footsteps coming up to the door. Or the sound of keys jingling. Yeah, later on he was going to be very disturbed that he didn't notice any of that until he heard the lock turning in the door.

He cursed under his breath, turning to the door and folding his arms to conceal the ice daggers he was forming for quick retrieval. The entering form threw the door open with a grunt, shoving a hefty looking moving box inside the room and dropping it very suddenly when they noticed the intruder.

"What are you doing here?" Artemis asked tersely, her breath a little short from the weight of the box she just discarded on the floor.

"Good evening to you too," he answered, noticing her immediately scanning the room exits to the hallway and kitchen, no doubt looking for signs of an accomplice. "I'm here alone."

"I asked you a question," she stated, eyes snapping back to him. She noticed he was iced down, something he never did on the job, and relaxed slightly. It meant he wasn't looking for a fight, _at least not immediately_ , her mind supplemented as she also noticed the folded arms, and the daggers that could be hidden behind them.

He shrugged in response. "I came to visit." Technically, that wasn't a lie. He just hadn't meant for her to stumble upon him during his visit.

_Or did you?_ asked a taunting voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like Crystal.

"The door was locked," she said, closing said door gently behind her. It was a statement with an unspoken question.

"It wasn't locked when I walked through it," he answered nonchalantly.

"So you broke into my home?" she asked and he clenched his jaw because in his life it was always _the apartment_ or _the safehouse_ or _my current residence_ but never home and why the hell did that bother him? The pride and safety that the word "home" emanated coming off her tongue. Like this barely moved into beach-house could have some deeper meaning that was invisible to him.

This, he knew, was the unmistakable pull of jealously. He just didn't understand what exactly he was feeling jealous of.

"Honestly, I didn't take you for the beach house type. A Gotham girl in Palo Alto?" He shrugged, then added "But I suppose I don't really know much about you these days."

"You broke into my home," she repeated, purposefully ignoring the barb at their...relationship? Frenemy status? Estrangement?

"You seem a little hung up on that. Tell me, do you have the same reservations about the law when you go out at night and beat people up with _Wallace_?"

At the mention of her boyfriend, she narrowed her eyes. "Don't mention him."

"Oooh, struck a nerve there didn't I?" he taunted playfully, reaching for something, anything to needle at her. To put her on the defensive and take her focus away from why he was here. Because he still didn't have an answer to that question.

"Keep it up, and it won't be the only thing that gets hit tonight _Cameron,_ " she said, taking a few steps closer to him.

"I'm so threatened," he responded mockingly, but she felt the room temperature drop about a dozen degrees and saw his skin turn a shade paler. Blaring indicators that he was gearing up for a fight, and he wasn't being subtle about it.

"You should leave. Before someone else comes," she warned, reigning herself back and keeping her voice calm. She wasn't 14 anymore, and this wasn't a playful conversation between friends in her Gotham living room. Getting riled up now wouldn't end with a playful punch and some middle school insults.

"What's the matter? Afraid your boyfriend will get here and see me? Wonder what a low-life scumbag such as myself is doing in this fine establishment? Or maybe you're worried that he won't be expecting an icicle to the face?" He was fishing now, desperate to poke a hole into this façade. Tear down this picture of a normal life she was building because now that she was here, in front of him and making it so real, it was making him _sick._

"I'm not afraid for him," she responded calmly. "I'm afraid for you. If he gets here, you'll be sorry."

"Oh I'm just petrified," he answered, putting his hands to his face in mock horror.

Artemis exhaled deeply, clenching and unclenching her fist a few times while she considered her options. She didn't want a fight, especially not when she didn't have her weapons with her. But if it came to it, she _might_ be able to close the gap and get a hit to his solar plexus before he finished icing up. Or she could get a jab in with the combat knife she had strapped under her shirt, maybe get a painful slash in across the ribs–

_His ribs_.

Suddenly, she felt the phantom stickiness of blood on her hands. The burning warmth of the liquid spreading between her fingers. The sound of bony knees hitting a grimy alley floor, the figure clutching their side in pain. And then it transitioned to a different night at a warehouse with even more blood and an arrow sticking out and – _snap out of it!_ the voice in her head yelled.

Looking down at her hands to remind herself that they were not covered in blood, she decided right then that she wasn't going to let this escalate into a fight. Instead, she moved to sit on the gargantuan box she had entered with, doing so slowly and deliberately to show that she wasn't making a move for a weapon.

Once seated, she inhaled deeply, gathering her nerves, and looked up at Cameron to ask again, "What are you doing?"

"Oh you know, just catching up with an old friend," he said, looking at his nails as if he was observing a recent manicure job. If he noticed her momentary freeze up he didn't say anything, but the icicle daggers were gone now.

"Bullshit. What is–" she gestured vaguely with her arms "–this? What are you doing right now? Breaking in. Trying to rile me up. Getting personal. It's not really your thing."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Isn't that what superheroes and villains do?"

"Last time we met, you saved me Cam." _At great personal cost to yourself._ "Not sure you qualify too much in the supervillain category."

She had lied to the League about the circumstances of her escape, just as he'd requested, claiming she had been moved by a masked guard. That he over-estimated how drugged she was and she caught him off guard. Her lies protected him from bearing the sudden might of a protective Justice League/Team hunt-down, but there was no way he hadn't faced other repercussions for her escape. Aside from the knife to the ribs, that is.

"A moment of weakness," he answered, and she wanted to scream _it was strength, not weakness._ "One that I paid for in full."

Based on the brittle tone, she changed her guess to _a lot_ of repercussions.

"I ask again, what are you doing here?"

His face flickered through a range of emotions before he pulled them back under a veneer of cool, unbothered calm. It was impressive really, how quickly he put the mask back on for someone who just a few years ago could have been read like an open book by a passing stranger.

It was also unbearably saddening, to see how far they'd both changed. How guarded they were, even under relatively neutral conditions.

Suddenly he looked at her and asked, "Would you have done the same thing for me?"

"What?" she asked, startled by the question.

"If the tables were turned, if it was me sitting in some Justice League cell somewhere being prepped to get sent back to Belle Revve, would you have done half of what I did for you back in Gotham? Lie to your superiors? Break me out?"

"Cam-"

"Hell, I'm not even talking about talking about taking a knife to the ribs. I'm just talking about making the effort. For old time's sake. Would you have even tried?"

"You know it's not that simple. You know that's not how it works." _I would have found another way. Without betraying The Team._

"Why? Because I'm a bad guy, and you're on the side of the angels?"

"Yes," she answered automatically, and hated how fast it came out. How sure it sounded out loud. It didn't convey the nuance she felt on the issue, or how fiercely she knew that she would never stand by and let him be shipped back to Belle Revve. Not again. Not after everything.

She was trying to formulate the words to convey that feeling when Cameron responded.

"Is that right?" He all but spat venomously. "Do they even know who you were? What you did?" The acidic tone stifled whatever response she was planning, and instead she heard the questions he really wanted to ask. _Do they know how close you were to the other side? About the_ _blood on your hands?_

"They know enough. And they know who I _am,_ " she answered defensively.

"So no. You didn't air out your laundry with them. Didn't tell them your dirty little secrets. I wonder what your friends would think, what your boyfriend would think, if they knew about the things you did," Cameron continued, his eyes fierce with accusation.

"Don't you _dare_ go there!" she growled, finally raising to the bait. "Everything I had to do was against my will, and don't pretend for a damn second that it wasn't! I left when I had the chance. I didn't give up. I'm not like _you._ "

"Yea, you're not. At least I know something about loyalty!" he shot back, voice raised.

"There's a difference between loyalty and blind obedience!" she snarled.

"Well congratulations," he sneered, lowering his voice back a few decibels but not relinquishing the icy veneer. "You think you're better than me because you left, but you're not. You're not better than me or any of the other kids that were born into this life. You just got a lucky hand."

Her face went through a variety of emotions, starting with rage, before it finally just softened into something else. An expression that was familiar to him and, in a different year, would have been comforting. "I never said I was."

He didn't respond to that, didn't look back as he brushed forward past and her and out the door into the warm humid air outside and down the steps. He couldn't get out of the house (her _home_ ) fast enough. Get back to the familiar comfort of one of his barren safehouses (not home, never home). Couldn't wait to ignore the prickly sensation that was creeping up the back of his throat.

When Wally got home later and asked why the house was "colder than Batman during an Arkham breakout", Artemis pretended not to hear the question.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading :) Next update in a week or two, depending on work.


	17. A Metropolis Meetup

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Artemis and Cameron have a long overdue conversation.
> 
> Ages: Artemis is 18. Cameron is 20.

**Late Winter, (Beginning of) Team Year 4**

The Bank Bakery.

_Not really an original name for a café right next to a bank_ Cameron thought, but he supposed beggars couldn't be choosers. Not that the owners of this café seemed to be beggars. The place was decorated lavishly: Marble countertops, full glass siding, a menu littered with obnoxiously French sounding options. It even made good use of its top floor location by having a heated semi-outdoor patio with a great view of the city.

And a perfect vantage point to scout the Metropolis National Bank directly across the street.

It wasn't exactly the normal spot for a lower level metahuman criminal to hang out. But a well dressed, slightly pale businessman working fervently on his tablet – that was definitely not hooked up to the bank's security apparatus – as he sipped a _Café Latte?_ That man fit in just perfectly.

Cameron let out a small grin as he checked the news and saw that yes, Superman was still halfway across the world, helping with the aftereffects of a massive tsunami in Southeast Asia. Where he had been for the last couple of days and publicly pledged to be for the rest of the week, alongside prominent Justice League members such as Wonder Woman & Batman.

It was the only reason he accepted this job. He wasn't stupid enough to risk getting in a fist fight with Superman, not when fighting with Super _boy_ left enough bruises. And he wasn't even blessed with super-speed or heat vision.

"You know for the prices, the coffee here is pretty shitty but the bakery isn't that bad," spoke a feminine voice from behind him, and he suppressed the overwhelming urge to facepalm. Of all the fucking voices in the world, it had to be _that_ one.

He tensed instinctively as heard her move into his line of sight but didn't bother to look up from his tablet at he responded. "Better than Gotham gas station food."

Artemis sat down directly across from him, apparently unbothered by the winter chill that kept most of the other patrons away from the patio. "Fancy seeing you around here Mr…" she trailed of with a questioning tone.

"Hawthorne. Blake Hawthorne," he responded curtly.

She raised an eyebrow at the name. "Wow. Blake Hawthorne. That's certainly…a name."

"This is Metropolis ma'am. We're free to be whomever we want," he responded sarcastically. "Besides, don't you have a beach-house to be at? It's a little nippy in this town for your sun-kissed skin don't you think?"

"I'm in town today with friends. Checking the sights, so to speak." She over-enunciated the words 'friends' and 'sights.'

Cameron groaned audibly, reading in between the lines. "Your timing is just perfect, as always."

"It runs in the family," she quipped.

"Should I be on the lookout for Jade then?" He asked, his eyes scanning around the semi-empty patio and into the bustling café, looking not for Jade, but the teammates she had just implied were in town with her.

"No, she's otherwise preoccupied."

"Heh," he chuckled, "I heard Cheshire was getting busy with her archer friend."

Artemis practically gaped at him. "How do you know about that?"

He smirked. "I hear things." That much was true. The gossip about Cheshire's defection from the Shadows, to save the semi-retired Red Arrow of all people, had spread through the criminal underworld like a wildfire.

"No, I meant how did you know that she was Cheshire?" She whispered her sisters pseudonym conspiratorially, eyes narrowed at him.

_Oh. Right._ He wasn't even supposed to know what Jade looked like these days, let alone know about her dangerous alter ego that liked poisons and sharp knives. It would have been disturbingly hot if he hadn't been hardwired to hate her from all the times he watched Artemis hold back tears on her sisters account.

"I ran across her after I got out of juvie. Or really, she ran one of her shiny knives across my throat in the middle of the night. Had a nice long conversation. Just me, Jade, one knife at my throat and the other on the family jewels. Very fun times."

"She talked with you? About what?" Artemis asked with unrestrained curiosity.

Now he raised his eyebrow at her. "About you. I think she was bored, wanted to hear more about how you were doing. She didn't know that we'd long gone our separate ways."

He remembered how she'd laughed when he'd spat that part out. _"Guess little sis outgrew both of us, huh junior?"_ she'd mocked in a sing song tone while she retreated into the night.

"Jade _would_ threaten you in the middle of the night to see how I was doing instead of just coming to see me."

"I got the distinct feeling she'd been following us a lot back when we were still in Gotham but hasn't had the chance to check in on you recently." _Or she'd k_ _now that we aren't on speaking terms anymore._

"Well, she's a little more busy than normal these days" she responded absentmindedly.

"What, she finally get pregnant?" he joked. His question gave Artemis a visible pause, and his eyes widened at her.

"No!" he gasped, recognizing her shock for an admission of truth.

"Wha-no. No!" She tried to deflect, but the jig was up.

"Nooo!" he laughed. "I don't believe it. _Jade_ is going to be a mother? The world is coming to an end."

Artemis made a sound that was something between a laugh and a groan. "I'm trying to convince her to let me be there during labor, so I can call BS when she tells everyone she went through labor in stony assassin silence."

"That little kid is going to come out the womb with a shuriken in hand and an uncontrollable blood lust," Cameron joked, continuing to laugh as he took another sip of his overpriced coffee.

Artemis let his laughter peter out before continuing. "I uh, I'd prefer you didn't mention this. To anyone. Ever."

He raised his hands in defense. "I wouldn't put a pregnant woman at risk just for some street cred, even if it is Jade." He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Not sure if she counts as a woman really."

"Hey, that's my sister we're talking about!"

"Uh huh."

The waiter came to take Artemis's order – to go, of course – and when she left the two sat in silence for a little bit, the conversation from before dying down. Cameron took more sips of his coffee, while Artemis played with the decorative napkins on the table. The air wasn't choking with the thick tension of that night in the Gotham alley last year, or even as much as their last encounter in Palo Alto. Still, the awkwardness was palpable, and neither moved to say anything for several minutes.

Finally, she broke the silence. "I missed this."

"What?"

"This. Us. Acting normal. Like how things used to be."

He gave her a disbelieving look, dismissing her words almost immediately. "We were never normal."

"You know what I mean. How things used to be before. Between us." _When we still talked to each other._

"How things used to be went out the window 4 years ago in a Star City Police station." _When you stabbed me in the back._

"I didn't know it was going to be you," she suddenly blurted out.

"What?" he asked, not sure what she meant.

"When they sent me on that mission, they only told me that I was going to be going undercover to get information on captured villains conspiring to get transferred to Belle Revve. They never told me it was going to be you. Hell, you were still a minor! Never in a thousand years did I think it would be you sitting there –"

"But that didn't stop you from doing it anyway," he interjected, his anger stoked, not subdued, by the words being spoken to him. _Betrayal is betrayal._

"I panicked! When I realized it was just me and you I wasn't sure how much they knew about how close we were. I thought it was some sort of test to see if I was mole. Friggin _Batman_ set the whole thing up."

"Didn't look like you were panicking at the time!" he fumed. "And even if you were, I've seen you operate better under pressure. You didn't give me any heads up, any warning signs, nothing! You just milked me for information like a low-rate snitch."

She flinched at his words. Even three years removed from life in the criminal underworld, the accusation of being a snitch carried heavy weight. Loyalty was worth it's weight in kryptonite.

"It happened before I was even on the team, and Batman & Green Arrow, they knew who I was. Who my family was. I was desperate to prove I wasn't like them. I did what I thought I had to do to survive, and what happened after happened and I'm sorry Cam. Damn it I'm _so sorry,_ " she pleaded, her voice hitting a desperate note on those last few words.

He sipped his coffee, looking hard out the edge of the patio. She took that as a signal to continue.

"I didn't know Superboy & Miss Martian were going to Belle Revve after that either. When I did find out, I didn't know how that mission ended. Not for a while later."

"Yea, and I bet you were happy to see me rotting in that cell, like all the other scum of the earth," he responded, still processing her earlier apology. He was unsure if he wanted to believe it, let alone accept it.

"That's not true! I know what you did to help Superboy & Miss Martian!" she said in hushed tones. "You saved their lives in the middle of a prison break, when you didn't have to!"

"Lot of good that did me. You know for a bunch of heroes you really do a lousy job of helping people who help you."

"That's not true! Superboy said he went back to check on you. That they worked with the warden to make sure you were protected from the other inmates. I personally checked every report with your name on it up until the day you got transferred to juvie. There wasn't so much as one incident."

"Is that what you guys think happened?" he laughed coldly, resisting the urge to touch the scar that traced along his lower abdomen. His goodbye gift before being set off to juvie.

"It's what I know happened. I wouldn't have left your safety up to chance."

"The reports were faked Artemis," he sneered, visibly disgusted by her faith in the prison system. "The Warden was dirty. The guards don't think we're human, because half the inmates really aren't. My dad was pissed about the damage to his rep. They had to make an example out of me. So they did, and whatever reports you got fed were crap."

"I didn't know –" she started, the horror palpable in her face.

"Because you didn't want to! If you really wanted to check on me you could have visited. You could have checked in on me. You knew the second I saw you on TV I'd put two and two together. You could have told me about your new _job_ in person, I deserved that at least. After everything damn it!" He slammed his fist down on his own knee, not wanting to make a scene by hitting the table.

Artemis sucked in a breath, still shaken by the revelation, and feeling a new wave of guilt creeping up on her. But she had to ask, had to know how wrong she'd been those years ago: "If I had shown up, would you have even talked to me?" she whispered.

Cameron didn't answer, curling and then uncurling his hands into fists along his pants – _you're ruining them kid_ he could hear Crystal lecture – while he started straight down at his plate. Wondering if he'd feel better if he threw it. Smashed the table with it. Trashed the glass windows of this pompous restaurant.

"I don't know," he finally admitted, before looking back at her. "But you _didn't_ , so we'll never know will we?"

"No, we don't…And I don't have a good reason why I didn't, except I was scared." she admitted. "Of this, of having this exact conversation now. And I'm sorry. And…I'm tired. I'm tired of fighting Cam."

"Yeah well I'm tired in general."

"You saved me. After all that, after how much I failed you, you still saved me when I was captured. Why?" she asked softly. "I was a prisoner. You could have gotten all the revenge in the world right then and there. Could have evened the score for what I did to you."

"Because I wasn't thinking about revenge when I saw you. I wasn't thinking about how much you screwed me over. I was thinking about the horrible things they were going to do to you."

Her features softened. "Because you're a good person."

He snorted. "Few years on the good side have turned you into one giant cheeseball."

"Stop trying to change the subject!"

"What's left to say?"

"Look, I get it Cam. Things have changed, but I, we," she struggled for the words, "We knew each other for so long. Even with everything that's happened since…" she motioned her hands around as if she was trying to physically pluck her next words from the air before continuing. "It would be nice to just talk. About normal things. I missed you, you know."

He bit back an _I missed you too,_ reminding himself that he was still infuriated. That she was very much still the enemy.

"There's this super tacky café near my house. Jade visits me there once in a while. The cameras are fake because the owner is cheap on security. It's practically on the beach so there's no other cameras around. No trace of you being there. It could be like Switzerland. A neutral ground."

"Why now? You see me in a random café, and all of a sudden _now_ you want to explain everything? Have a heart to heart?"

She exhaled audibly. "Because I never wanted us to end up like this. And…we lost a member of our team recently. Again. The Joker. I'm sure you've heard."

He grimaced. He had heard. Everyone had heard about what the deranged clown had done to the second Robin, and whoever hadn't could make an educated guess from the sudden disappearance of Robin and the increased violence from Batman. The sudden uptick in broken bones and near-comatose gangsters that Batman was delivering to the GCPD had been bad enough for Cameron to steer clear of Gotham for the last several weeks.

"I heard. I'm sorry. No one deserves to die like that."

"Yea," she responded, a faraway look in her eyes. "It made me think about things. About what really matters in life."

"And?"

"I'm giving up the life. For good."

Now that was surprising. Possibly the most surprising thing he heard in this entire conversation. He realized that his surprise must have registered on his face, because she explained.

"I don't want to die young Cam. There's nothing glamorous about dying a hero."

"Well…I'm happy you've come to that conclusion."

"I don't want you to die either," she added suddenly. He couldn't find the words to respond, so he just took another sip of his cooling coffee.

The waiter came with Artemis's order, packed in her to-go box. Artemis took the receipt and scribbled something down on the back of it and sliding it across the table to Cameron.

"The café joint I was talking about. In case you ever come."

He didn't take it, just eyeing it's spot at the center of the table.

"Well, I gotta go before my friends start looking for me," Artemis said, standing up from the table and shivering at the sudden gust of cold win. "I'll let you get the bill."

"Ah yes, the gold digger returns," he jabbed reflexively.

"Well I am but a poor broke college student." She gave a sly look. "Besides, I have it on good authority you're planning to make a pretty large withdrawal from Metropolis National Bank tonight."

"No idea what you're talking about."

"I hope so. Wouldn't want all my _friends_ to be in town for no reason."

"Didn't you just say you were giving up your extra curriculars?"

"I said I will be. And you've got no business questioning my honesty, Mr. _Hawthorne_."

He laughed. "Touché."

"Take care. And think about my offer."

He grabbed her wrist gently before she could walk away, and she glanced back at him. "For people like you and me, The Life is all we've ever known. You think you can really walk away from it?"

She looked him dead in the eyes when she answered. "I have to." _And so can you._

After she left, he lounged in the café for another hour, consuming two more over-priced cold drinks before exiting. He made sure to give a cheeky smile to several of the cameras as he walked down the street, no doubt in his mind that he was being surveilled.

He didn't even try to be discreet when dumped his phone, not bothering to give the rest of his "team" a heads up. They wouldn't listen to him anyway, not unless he divulged far more information about his source than he was interested in. And even then, they'd probably still try to put up a fight.

Whatever. If anyone bothered to ask why he was a no-show, he'd just say he drank too much and overslept the early morning heist timeline. As it was, his reputation was still far enough in the gutter that no one would doubt that story, and his partners were greedy enough to try the job without looking for him.

By the time he got to his hotel room – he didn't frequent Metropolis enough anymore to warrant continuous payment for a safehouse here – he collapsed into his bed. The emotional drain of the earlier conversation left him wiped out, and his brain was tired from replaying the words from the earlier conversation.

He fell asleep staring at the neat writing on the back of the receipt he took from the café table, pondering the extended olive branch.

He dreamt of prison beatings and bleeding ribs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RIP Jason Todd. Much love to everyone whose reading this story!


	18. The Rubber Ducky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An olive branch is extended.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Age: Artemis is 19, Cameron is 20.

**Early May, Team Year 4**

Cameron was positive that there was something in the water in the West Coast. Whatever hellish mixture of chemicals existed to make Gotham a dark, sour place even on its brightest days, the West Coast had to be doused in the exact opposite. It was the only explanation for how bubbly everyone here seemed to be: Strangers smiled at you when they passed by and you didn't have to worry if they were dosed by the Joker's laughing gas. They said "Hello" and "Good Morning", where in Gotham they wouldn't look at you unless you were facing off in mortal combat, or they were robbing you. If you dropped something, they picked it up for you instead of trying to steal it or assuming it was a bomb and hightailing out of there.

Glancing again at the coffee shop he was standing in front of, Cameron decided that it had to be something in the water. How else would someone in their sane mind put a café on a beach and call it _The Rubber Ducky_? And then build a giant rubber ducky to put right on the roof.

_In Gotham this would be the headquarters of some duck-themed villain. Probably become the arch-nemesis of The Penguin too._

He chuckled to himself at the idea, brushing the doors open and being immediately greeted by a waitress who actually looked happy to see him – another departure from Gotham, where the first thing the waiters did was check to see how if you were here to rob the place – and quickly guided him to a booth with a window view of the beach.

On his way over he picked up one of the complementary newspapers he knew no one ever read, promising to look over the menu and let the waitress know when he was ready to order. Once she was out of sight, he picked the newspaper back and up and started sifting through the headlines, almost gagging at how timid they were.

**_Queen Industries makes large grant to Stanford University_ **

**_Best surfing sites in town – And the best sushi places for afterwards_ **

**_How to beat the heat – and embrace lace in your summer wear._ **

He checked the newspaper heading thrice to make sure this was the actual local newspaper, and not some café knockoff of vogue magazine. It wasn't. Apparently, this was real honest citizens of Palo Alto read for the daily information.

 _I thought Palo Alto was supposed to be full of Stanford geniuses, not surfer airheads_ he grumbled mentally, but he didn't stop reading. It was like a bad reality show: The more he read, the worse it was, but the less he could tear his eyes away. Somewhere in between the page 4 story about the latest rumors on Oliver Queen's long standing romance with Dinah Lance – _she's waaay too young for him_ – and the page 12 story about the newest fleet of electric cars being developed by a local startup genius, someone sat down at the table directly across from him.

He didn't have to look up to guess who would be brazen enough to sit right across the gruff looking pale loner. He didn't look up when they loudly dumped their backpack and books all over the table. Didn't say anything when they started rummaging through their backpack to organize their mess. Didn't even glance in their direction when they finished shoving their backpack away and stared at him for a solid three minutes.

Eventually, she got bored of staring at the top of his head from behind a newspaper. "I know for a fact the news here isn't that interesting," Artemis said.

"On the contrary. I think the local events here are riveting," he answered dryly.

"Yeah, and my name is Gertrude."

"Hello Gertrude, my name is Cameron," he answered mockingly, looking up at Artemis. She looked tired, bags under her eyes and hair almost as unruly as her sisters default. She was likely suffering through a caffeine withdrawal.

 _Finals_ he guessed, taking in the dozen or so anxious looking college students seated around the café. They all had the same, anxious look that he recognized on low-level criminals waiting for a deal they didn't feel good about.

"I didn't think you'd show up," Artemis said, bringing his attention back to her.

"Neither did I," he answered honestly.

"How have you been?" she asked tentatively. Like if she used the wrong tone the conversation would go off the rails before it started.

"Better ever since I saw that Warden Strange got fired."

At that, Artemis livened up a little bit, as if she'd just taken a much needed shot of caffeine. "Yea well, the Justice League got an anonymous tip about a bunch of unsavory behavior that the Warden was covering up. They looked into it. Apparently, the tip was good."

Her faced morphed into a one of disgust, as if the memory alone deserved a kick to the jaw. Cameron could guess what they found: Violence among inmates, often orchestrated if not forced by prison guards. An economy of corruption. Falsified reports to cover up mysterious injuries. Prisoners being put in solitary for retribution, and then being kept there longer than the paperwork showed. Probably a dozen or so crimes tied directly to his father as the capo, and dozens more that indirectly led back to him.

He didn't know how bad the fallout truly was in the prison, but the radio silence from his father in the last month told him enough. Things had to be strict right now if even the capo couldn't get communication lines out. _He probably has been in contact with the outside world, just not you. You're not important enough for that_ sneered the voice in his head.

"They didn't try to find out about the anonymous tip?" he asked, ignoring his inner demons and cautiously sticking to what was public knowledge. If anyone was spying, nothing they'd said so far wasn't already reported in the news somewhere.

"If they did, they didn't ask about it. They probably assumed one of the inmates snitched and didn't want to put a target on their back." Then she added much quieter, so only the two of them could hear: "I'm pretty sure they assumed it was from Jade."

"Good."

"Thank you," she said, and then added: "And I'm sorry."

His eyes flashed over the newspaper he was faux-reading to give her a withering look. "You weren't there. Not your fault."

"Yea, I _wasn't_ there," she reiterated, angrily this time, causing Cameron to sigh and put the newspaper down.

"Artemis, I didn't come to this disgustingly tacky café, surrounded by all these tackier west coast surfer types to listen to you guilt trip yourself." _Or to relive Belle Revve._

"Then why did you come?"

He shrugged. "Same reason you invited me."

She didn't know how to answer to that, because she didn't have any one specific reason why she invited him. Guilt? Longing? Fear? There were so many different reasons, some of them at direct odds with another. All of them too intertwined to separate, and too connected to her past to discuss openly with any of her confidants.

 _Confidants._ How many of them actually knew her better than the boy – no, now he was a grown man – sitting right across from her now?

"Stop overthinking it blondie," Cameron said, interrupting her thoughts at the waitress started moving towards them. "And tell me what to order on this stupid menu."

…

Two vanilla Frappuccino's, six muffins later, and one hour later they looked like the most relaxed pair in the building, Artemis's pile of assignments forgotten and the two cracking jokes about random beachgoers passing by their window.

"Ok, I'll bet my left ear that buff pony-tail guy has a flame tattoo on his other shoulder. Yea-wait for him to turn, aha!" Cameron exclaimed, fist pumping victory.

"Pfft, that's an easy guess. But my hair isn't naturally blonde if the surfer chick doesn't slap the Tom-Cruise-wannabe in the next ten seconds. Pretty sure he thinks her polite disinterest is her buying into his horrible pickup lines, and he's about to comment on her ass."

The two broke out in howling laughter when her prediction came true, with a crotch kid added in. The loud hush from an annoyed bookworm two tables over forced them to suppress it into hysterical giggles, and soon they were both gasping for air like they were pre-teens acting foolish in Artemis's old apartment. Wiping a laughter induced tear form her eye, she realized that this, _this_ was what she missed.

"I missed this," she said, verbalizing those thoughts.

"You said that last time," he answered, the good humor starting to drain from his face.

"I meant it then too," she insisted. "I told you this place…it can be like our Switzerland."

"It's one thing to meet up with a known criminal when it's your sister…" he trailed off.

"I told you, I met my dad here once," she reminded him, the corner of her lip starting to curl into a mini-seer at the memory of _that_ meeting. "And he walked away without a scratch or any cuffs. So trust me, I mean it when I say Switzerland."

Cameron snorted, imagining how that meeting must have gone down. "Your dad's a piece of work Artemis, but he's still your dad. Blood over water and all that." _I should know, after all._

"That's not even how the saying goes. Besides, the present company is better."

He let out a dry chuckle. "Not a high bar to clear."

"Stop that," she answered, glaring at him.

"Stop what?"

"Putting yourself down. Every time we meet. It's..." _like when we were kids, but worse_ "It's worrying."

"Well don't waste your time worrying about poor me."

"You just did it again!" she exclaimed, showing her frustration.

"I'm not putting myself down, I'm just being objective about things."

"Not from where I'm standing."

"Well, this has been fun," Cameron responded, clapping his hands together and moving to leave. The goodwill that had been permeating the air was all but evaporated now. "But I'm not big into psycho-analysis. And I've got to go anyway before one of your friends comes looking for you and someone recognizes me. Wouldn't be much of a Switzerland then now would it?"

"Wait, just, here–" she grabbed one of the napkins from the table and scribbled down a number. "If you ever need to reach me. At the least, you can text me whenever you're in town."

He looked at her outstretched hand for a few seconds, calculating the risk/benefit analysis of taking that number: Understanding that leaving it would be rejecting an olive branch he really wanted to accept but knowing in his gut that if he took it, there's no way he wouldn't end up using and potentially walk right into a trap down the road.

"Same number Jade reaches me at," she said, then, as if his worry was projected on his face: "The League doesn't know about it."

He took the napkin and folded it carefully into his pants pocket, already thinking of which contacts he'd be using to get the least traceable phone to call this number from.

"I'm happy you came," Artemis offered with a nervous smile, like she wasn't sure what to say now that they weren't cracking jokes and pretending that their other lives didn't exit. But it was a genuine smile, and Cameron couldn't really remember that last time he saw one of those from someone else without nefarious undertones.

It was nice.

"Yea, I am too."

He meant it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone whose reading/commenting/kudosing, you guys are the best! My internship grind is about to heat its peak, but I've got the next 2-3 chapters in respectable-ish drafts and the ones beyond in less respectable but existing drafts. Next chapter should be up in a week or two.


	19. Huntress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cameron helps an elderly lady.
> 
> Ages: Artemis is 19, Cameron is 20.

**Summer, Team Year 4**

Cameron turned the corner and immediately groaned at the sight in front of him: An elderly Asian woman in a wheelchair, cornered by three obvious hooligans right near the entrance to an alley. One was gripping the handlebars of her wheelchair, while another one was rifling through her grocery bag, tossing things haphazardly on the ground with a sneer. The third was lounging in the background antsily. Obviously the weakest link.

_Great._ Criminal or no criminal, mugging handicapped elderly women was just a line too far for him. Even for Gotham in general, this was low.

He looked around and, unsurprisingly, the other civilians along the street were giving them a wide berth and nothing more than stank eye. Being a Good Samaritan just wasn't the Gotham-way, not even for an elderly woman in a wheelchair. It said a lot about the public's trust in law enforcement that no one even pretended to dial 911 for a mugging in broad daylight.

Cameron sighed, accepting the fact that he might get some blood on his knuckles before the day was over. Drawing closer to the lowlifes, he lazily drawled at them. "Hey, buzz off punks."

Immediately the three men turned to look at him with first surprise, then cruel amusement at the appearance of another potential suspect. The elderly woman turned to look at him too, and to his surprise she seemed...intrigued. She didn't look frightened, worried, or even the show the level of annoyance someone whose been through multiple muggings could be expected to display.

Before he could ponder more about the serene old woman, the thug holding her bag of groceries dropped it and stepped towards him with a sneer on his face. "Oooh, whatya gonna do about it?"

"Well," Cameron started, giving them all his best look of pure indifference, "I was going to ask nicely, wait for you to rudely decline, and then kick all of your asses. Then I was going to go home. But I think we can skip straight to the 'kick all of your asses' part and get on with it.

"Well lookee here, looks like we got ourselves a Bat-wannabe!" sniggered the man holding onto the woman's wheelchair. Cameron dubbed him _Thug #2_ in his head, with the closest idiot being Thug #1 and the last one being Thug #3.

"Let's show him what we do to Bat-wannabes 'round here," said Thug #1, as he stepped forward to deliver a vicious punch to where Cameron's face _was._ Cameron gave him a shit-eating grin as the man realized he missed, and returned with a swing of his own, icing up his fist slightly as he cocked it forward. Not enough for anyone who wasn't looking super closely to notice, but enough to have the intended effect of brass knuckles.

The first punch connected with the man's nose and a sickening crunch sounded out as blooded pooled out of his nose. Before he could sputter some obscenity, a second punch dislocated his jaw, and a third to his gut had him rolling to the ground on the pavement, writhing in pain. A quick kick to the head - _remember Junior, not enough force and they stay conscious, but too much force and you leave them with brain damage_ warned his father's voice from a distant memory - put an end to his consciousness.

The second and third of the thugs eyed him with a mixture of wariness and anger, glancing between their collapsed leader and the pale young man casually wiping his bloody knuckles off on the cement wall of the building next to them. They looked at each other, debating what their next move was.

Cameron leaned against the wall, still inspecting his slightly bloodied fist. Hopefully it wouldn't bruise. "Well? I don't have all day."

Apparently that was the spark Thug #2 needed to go for it. He lunged forward, brandishing a crowbar from _where the hell_ that Cameron was immediately annoyed to see and swinging it forcefully. Cameron rolled with the swing, letting iron meet air, and then grabbed the man by his shoulders, spun him around, and slammed him face first into the wall. He slumped down, the crowbar slipping from his hands, and fell haphazardly on top of Thug #1.

When Cameron looked up, the third thug was already bolting down the street in the opposite direction, just like the weakest link.

"Hmph. Wise man," commented the woman, still apparently unfazed by the situation that unfolded in front of her.

"Bet his buddies will wake up thinking they did the same. Are you ok?"

"I'm quite aright," she answered as Cameron knelt to start collecting the various groceries that were laying on the pavement. He made sure to "accidentally" drop a can or two on top of the two collapsed would-be muggers as he did, smiling just a bit when they twitched in unconscious pain. A few years ago he would have pilfered through their pockets and taken anything of value. Now, he'd leave that to the street kids he could already feel watching for his exit. They would need those meager funds more than he did.

"Here you go ma'am," he said, raising the bag back into the lap of the elderly woman.

"Thank you. What's your name, young man?" she answered, and he noticed that she had a thick Asian accent. He couldn't determine where it came from, but he spent enough time doing errands for his father and various elements of the Chinese Mafia to know that her nationality was not Chinese. Also not likely Korean or Japanese, but he couldn't be sure.

"Cameron," he answered, bypassing the half-dozen bogus names that he usually offered when a stranger asked. There was something eerily familiar about this woman, but he couldn't quite place it. Maybe it was the warm eyes on a hardened face that seemed to be the default expression of anyone who lived to be old in Gotham and still knew how to smile.

"Well Cameron, thank you for the help. You saved me a lot of trouble."

"I saved myself from some indigestion later tonight if I didn't do anything."

"Well, I wasn't really looking forward to having to go back the store and then all the way back to my apartment on the other side of _Salvadori's_ " explained the old woman, naming one of the few non-mob affiliated Italian spots in the area. Their meatballs were subpar and the pizza was bad, but their spaghetti was worth every penny.

"You went a long ways from home to go grocery shopping. There's a bunch of places closer to _Salvadori's_ less likely to have punks looking to pick on you. Gotham is a hell-hole, but it takes a special kind of hell-hole to pick on an older lady in a wheelchair."

"Correct, but I needed special ingredients that aren't in my neighborhood. I'm making Pho using my mother's recipe. Dao's kiosk in this area is the only place that has it."

"I guess the least I can do is escort you and your family recipe back to your building. You're headed in the same direction as me anyway." Wrong, his safehouse was a five minute walk from here, as opposed to the at least thirty minutes away from here that her neighborhood was. But he wasn't going to say that. Not when he specifically chose to get a safehouse here because it was one of the more run-down neighborhoods that wasn't constantly terrorized by the Bats or firmly under one of the various gang's controls. Like the neighborhood, his safe house was decrepit on the outside and slightly less decrepit on the inside.

"I'm sure a young man such as yourself has better things to be doing."

"In this part of town? You should be suspicious that I haven't robbed you yet."

"Very true, but if you were a thief you wouldn't have walked away from the wallets of those two other thieves."

"Stranger things have happened in this city," he said, and left it at that while the woman double checked that all her groceries were accounted for.

"Well?" she asked, looking back to Cameron with a sense of urgency. For a second he felt lost, unsure what he missed.

Sensing his obvious confusion, she gestured to the bag of groceries in her lap: "You're not going to make a poor, wheelchair bound old lady like me carry all these heavy groceries home are you?"

Cameron felt his face heating up as he reached for the groceries, but he could sense the cheeky tone in the elderly lady's voice. It sounded like the playful grandmother from those bad hallmark movies he used to watch on school nights.

They quickly got into a rhythm, Cameron walking at the surprisingly fast pace Paula moved in her wheelchair.

"Tell me Cameron, does your mother have a special recipe?"

"I wouldn't know. She passed giving birth to me." Another statement he never would have said in public, but for some reason was perfectly ok telling to this woman he just met.

"It's a true tragedy, for a child to be without their mother," she replied. Her words were coated with something other than the standard pity he got. It sounded almost like...empathy. Like she knew what he was talking about.

"Agreed," he offered lamely.

"But you are here. A strong young man. I'm sure she would be proud."

Would she? He didn't know. His father rarely talked about his mother, and the few pictures of her that Cameron had seen when he was younger disappeared when his training ramped up. He knew she liked snow days and lemon cake. He knew she convinced his father to leave The Life to raise him and start a legit family. He knew that his father never got over her death, and deep down somewhere, he probably resented Cameron for it.

"I hope so," he responded truthfully.

"Well I _know_ so. A man who interrupts a crime on these streets would make any mother proud. You remind me of my own daughters like that, brave even if it's not the smartest decision."

"You have daughters huh?"

"Two. The pearls of my life, even if I haven't always been the best parent. I have made my fair share of mistakes."

"Everyone makes mistakes. It's human nature. The important thing is that they know you still love them."

"I didn't say it enough when I had the chance. My eldest, she…she is not speaking with me right now."

"Give her time. Children always come back to their parents. They need them. Just be there when she does." _After all,_ he thought, _I would know._ He was still standing by his father, and he couldn't _honestly_ say that he knew the man loved him like a father should love their son. But he was very good at lying to himself.

"Brave, and wise beyond your years. What a gem I've found today!" she laughed.

"I get the feeling you'd do just fine without my advice."

"Bah, nonsense. At my age you learn to have an open mind."

"All this praise from you and I don't even know your name."

She laughed. "My name is Paula."

The name was vaguely familiar, just like everything else about the woman.

...

It was a smooth walk, the two conversing about their lives without actually giving any specific details in the way that Cameron was used to discussing with the criminal associates he could tolerate. Paula talked to him about her daughters, the youngest one who was in college and coming to visit later today with her boyfriend, and the oldest who was working some job that kept her traveling. He talked about the neighborhood and the various assortment of "Only-In-Gotham" events he'd seen go down, deftly avoiding any talk of his own family or what he did for a living. If Paula noticed, she didn't say anything.

All in all it was a surprisingly enjoyable conversation, which is why it was very obvious when he practically froze when they arrived at their destination, almost bug-eyed staring at the building.

Because here he was, standing in front of Artemis's old apartment.

"You recognize this building?" Paula asked, eyebrow raised.

"Uhm, yea actually. I used to live in here before," he lied, hoping that all of his talk of the neighborhood would make that seem perfectly believable. With how much time he spent here, he might as well have been a tenant.

"Ah, then I don't have to tell you how bad the elevators are."

He snorted. "No, you definitely don't."

He hesitated as Paula moved up the ramp to the door - _since when did this place follow accessibility guidelines?_ \- but seeing as how he still had all of her groceries in his hand, he had no choice but to follow.

He knew exactly how long it took the creaky hunk of junk to get to the fourth floor. Without interruptions it was a 65 second journey. Add twenty seconds if anyone was hitching a ride up from the other floors, but forty-five seconds if that person was coming from the second floor, which always had a weird delay. He knew that he could make the climb up the fire-escape into Artemis's old room in under thirty seconds.

"Reminiscing, are you?" Paula asked. She must've noticed him zoning out.

_Oh, you have no idea._ "Just a little bit."

And so he found himself standing in front of Artemis's apartment, watching the old lady – _this has to be h_ _er friggin mom_ – he suddenly realized _–_ unlock the front door.

_You've gotta be shitting me._ The woman he stopped from being mugged was freaking _Huntress_. No wonder she seemed so nonchalant, she probably could have castrated the three goons without breaking a sweat. Cameron intervening probably just made her evening drag on longer than if he hadn't done anything. A decade after she'd retired and he still heard rumors about some of the things she did in her youth, before she met Sportsmaster.

Apparently getting married and having kids had a calming effect.

This was also the woman whose letters kept Artemis afloat for years. Who was her fuel for not accepting what her dad wanted her to be. Who Cameron has never met, and who would probably be deeply ashamed that her daughter was friends with someone who did let themselves get dragged into the criminal underworld that took her legs, and her eldest daughter.

"Come on in," gestured Paula, now entering her apartment. "I need to give you some of the Pho you bravely rescued today."

Cameron's first thought was _why is this old lady inviting strangers into her apartment,_ immediately followed by _because she can probably paralyze me in three seconds_ , and then succeeded by the graceful return of his ability to utter words.

"Oh, no I couldn't," he protested. _Seriously, I can't_. The last thing he needed to was to run into Artemis. Not right now, while he was still trying to figure out if she was friend or foe. He _definitely_ did not want to run into her boyfriend, and have the whole thing escalate out of control. That was assuming Artemis's boyfriend was the type to be in good standing with her mother.

_He would be, the jackass._

"I insist, young man. It's the least I can do to repay you for your troubles."

"I really can't."

She gave him that grandmotherly look from earlier; a mixture of warning and humor. "You'd turn down a genteel old woman's offer of good food?"

For yet another moment he questioned if Artemis's mom had all her marbles, insisting on inviting a sketchy stranger into her home in Gotham of all places. Then he remembered again that this was _Huntress_ , and the mother of _Cheshire_ , and ex-wife of Sportsmaster, neither of whom are allegedly as good as she was in her prime.

_What the hell, I'm already this deep in it._

"I guess I have a few minutes to spare."

As luck would have it, the Pho was _really_ good.

…

"Mom, I'm home!"

"Kitchen!" shouted Paula as she finished putting away dishes. She placed a new teapot on the dining table as her eldest walked in, all but collapsing in heap on a chair. "How have you been Artemis?"

"Oh you know, the usual. Shaking off summer break laziness, enjoying the thick pile of reading I have due for the next few weeks because I decided to take summer classes like an idiot. Got a job at the campus library."

Paula rolled over to the table as Artemis poured them both some cups. "A job? Doesn't your Wayne scholarship give you a living stipend?"

"It does, but I can't mooch off Wayne forever. And besides, I like working."

"It must be nice having all that extra time to actually study, now that you aren't busy with your...other activities."

Artemis facepalmed and groaned dramatically. "Yes, mom, for the thousandth time it is nice having all that time back. No, I am not planning to un-retire. Yes, I do miss it a little bit, but nowhere near enough to go back. No, Wally is not even a little bit interested in going back and is not going to pressure me into it."

"I only said it's nice to have time, but I like all of that too," her mom responded with a smile.

"It's never only about 'having time' with you mom."

"Mmm hmm. Where is Wallace? I thought he was coming with you."

"His advanced nuclear physics class started early and he has an exam tomorrow, so he's reading his material at super speed to get his A, as always."

"Hmm. Best luck to him. Anyway, who was that boy you used to hang out with while I was in prison?"

And like someone flipped a switch, Artemis stiffened upright, snapping to attention. "What?"

"The one who you said told you how to get around your father to visit me. Icicle's son," her mom answered nonchalantly, as if this was totally in line with the previous conversation. What was his name again?"

"Cameron. Cameron Mahkent. Why?"

"I was just thinking, I ought to know more about the man who was my daughter's best friend."

"That was a long time ago mom. Things change."

"The more things change, the more they stay the same."

"Why are you all of a sudden interested? It's been four years." Her eyes narrowed. "Was _dad_ here? Did he say something? Is Cameron involved in something big?"

Paula waved her hand as if to physically dispel that accusation. "Nonsense Artemis. I wouldn't waste time with your father's foolishness. I just want to know what made the young man so special, if he was able to hold your trust for so long."

"It doesn't matter now does it? He's different now. His dad made sure of that," she answered bitterly, staring down at her tea with borderline hatred.

"I doubt that."

"Why?" she asked, and Paula almost wanted to laugh at the unconcealed hope in her daughters voice. She was just as bad at hiding it now as she was when she was a toddler.

"Even in retirement you hear things. Icicle's son, he should be a major player. Yet, I hear nothing. Makes me wonder if he's that much of a villain."

"He's still working jobs, answering whenever his dad calls. That's what he does."

"I didn't ask you to tell me what he does. I asked you to tell me who he is."

"I-I don't think I'm sure who he is. Not anymore."

"Then tell me who he used to be. For you."

Artemis inhaled, taking in the scent of the spices from the tea under her nose.

And then she did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cam never got to meet Artemis's mom, so I was thinking about how their first meeting would go and this was born. Hope the longer chapter made up for the wait. Let me know your thoughts in the comments below!


	20. Some (Not So) Chance Encounters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The two friends put their own personal Switzerland to use.
> 
> Ages: Artemis is 19, Cam is 20 & then 21 by the end of this chapter.

**August, Team Year 4**

She got the text while she was working at the campus library. Flipping through monotonous shelves of STEM textbooks, she did a quick sweep of the aisles to make sure her oppressive manager wasn't looking for her before checking her phone. A text from an unlisted number, the first message she'd ever gotten from it. No introduction, no identification, nothing. Just a picture of a burger, fries, and a milkshake, with one pale hand giving the food the Bird and the caption:

_$35 for this shitty "meal deal". What kind of café even does meal deals? Friggin West Coast prices._

Artemis made it from the campus bookstore to _The Rubber Ducky_ in under twenty minutes, muttering some excuse of vomiting blood to a coworker and vowing to deal with her manager's attitude later. It wasn't hard to find _him_ , sitting in the same spot as their last encounter, chatting up the pretty freshman waitress. He spotted her almost right after she did, gesticulating in her direction.

"Speak of the devil and she appears in sweatpants and a bad hair day," he joked, giving the waitress a generous looking tip as she went back to her work.

"Please tell me you didn't text me just to watch you stuff your face," she groused, sitting across from Cameron and his full plate of food.

He responded by shoveling some fries into his mouth and chugging it down with a slurp of his vanilla milkshake before answering. "No, I could send you a video to do that, and save us both the time."

He burped, and then gave her an obvious look-over. "Why do you look so stressed out? You haven't even started school yet."

"Work at my new job sucks. And I went through the syllabi for my classes this semester. Also I bought my textbooks today."

"And?" he asked.

"And," she stole some of his fries, "Our dads would be jealous of the scams that are college bookstores. I feel dirty just thinking about it."

"Yea well I always tried to tell the old man we were in the wrong business. Higher education is were all the real money's at. Bet if I ran your university I could charge sixty-five grand for tuition and housing and no one would blink an eye."

Artemis laughed. "That'd be a ten grand discount from my university's actual prices."

Cameron coughed, his French fries going down the wrong way. "Dear Thief-lord in heaven, I mean hell, I really am in the wrong business. What are you studying again?"

"English Literature, with a minor in Vietnamese Literature."

"Huh, that's…surprising. I thought you'd be going into something more related to our…extra curriculars."

Artemis shrugged. "Nothing I can learn that I don't already know."

Cameron nodded, seeing the logic there. He wouldn't want to spend six figures on classes about security or criminal justice when he already had a PhD's worth of knowledge in dismantling security systems and navigating the various layers of criminal law. "What's Kid Speedy doing?"

"Physics. Well, Advanced Nuclear Physics with a minor in Biochemistry."

"Right. You're dating the red-head Einstein," he answered with more than a tinge of sarcasm and something bubbling in his gut that was _certainly not jealousy_.

"He's not that bad," Artemis answered, as if she could feel his disdain towards Wally. "And neither is college. You should think about it."

"I'd need to finish high school first."

"You could take a GED."

"That's assuming I could pass."

She gave him _a look_ , but restrained herself from reminding him again not to put himself down, remembering how fast that prompted him to leave last time. "I know Belle Revve and Juvie forced you to keep taking classes," she said instead.

"That was a long time ago. Definitely a long time to go without studying."

"Oh come on, I know you were never a big fan of school, but I'm sure you kept up some stuff here and there." She remembered how much he was indifferent to school. How he chose not to care, instead of attaching himself when he knew his father was going to remove him eventually anyway. She also remembered how he'd always _hated_ the idea of being the dumbest kid in the room, school or no school.

"I did a few things here and there," he answered noncommittally.

"Like I said, you should think about the GED. Besides, you're the spitting image of a college student."

"Oh yea?" He puffed out his chest and started running his fingers through his messy hair. "Chiseled young man such as myself, with dashing good looks?"

Artemis gave him a shit-eating grin. "Sarcastic young adult with poor decision making and a bad procrastination problem."

He threw a french fry at her face.

**September, Team Year 4**

The second time there was no text message. Instead Artemis showed up to grab a pick-me-up drink in between her Intro to Vietnamese Composition & Advanced Literature class. Halfway to the register, she saw him sitting in the same spot again, shooting her the cheekiest grin and waving her over with two coffee cups already at the table.

"Cam, it's awesome to see you but I've really gotta run. Any chance we can meet up in like three hours?"

"Woah there Rapunzel, chill out. There's no rush. Here, enjoy this uh...caramel something hot coffee drink." he said, gesturing for her to sit.

She slid into the spot across from him, grabbing the cup of coffee gratefully but still calculating how much time she had left to class. "Seriously, I've really gotta run, I'm gonna be late for-"

"-your Advanced Literature class with an asshole of a professor who puts a lot of weight on attendance but also locks the door to humiliate anyone who doesn't come in on time?"

"How-"

"You _might_ have mentioned it last time we met. A lot. But don't worry about it, class is going to be cancelled."

Sure enough, she felt her phone buzz right as he finished that statement. Wringing out of her pocket, she saw an email notification with the subject header "Class cancelled" and practically exhaled a sigh of relief, before several mental alarm bells went off. Looking up warily she asked "How did you-"

"By being the magnificent genius I am," Cameron responded smugly.

Artemis raised an eyebrow, trying and failing to hide the smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

Cameron raised his coffee cup back to his lips and mumbled out "...I may have frozen a pipe or two."

Her smile immediately turned into a groan, and she facepalmed. "You could have just texted me!"

He shrugged nonchalantly. "I mean yeah, I could have, but I kind of stopped in town on a whim and this was a lot more convenient for me than trying to wait for your schedule to clear up."

"How was breaking into a university campus and studying the schematics well enough to freeze the specific pipes to get one class cancelled easier than sending a text? And how would you even know that I'd be here in between classes?"

"Well for starters, I didn't know you'd be here. I figured I'd probably call you once I got bored enough. Also, I didn't really study any building schematics. I kind of just froze a bunch of pipes sooo...lots of cancelled classes today."

" _Cameron Mahkent_ , don't tell me you just sabotaged the entire Literature department at my campus."

"Okaaaay...then I won't."

"Wait, if you were going to call me anyway then why the hell did you go wrecking the pipes?"

"I said I'd _probably_ call you, and beside, I needed to kill some time while you were studying Theoretical Literature of Wonderland or whatever your last class was."

Artemis groaned loudly again, shoving her face back into her hands just as the waitress came over to drop off two plates of waffles for the two of them. She gave Artemis the usual curtesy smile, but then beamed when she turned back to Cameron, whose pile of waffles was noticeably taller than Artemis's. "On the house, for our favorite customer."

Cameron shot her a bright grin. "Why thank you very much Stephanie."

Artemis waited for her to move out of earshot before asking: "Favorite customer?"

"I'm good company and I tip very, very generously. It's only natural that I rise up the customer rankings."

"Uh huh. You know, the waitress here is kind of cute," she said with a mischievous grin, ignoring how when Cameron reached over for the syrup, she could see the nasty bruises lining the top of his collarbone. Evidence of what he'd been up to recently.

"What?"

"I'm just saying she's easy on the eyes. And for some reason she always seems to notice you when we come in here."

"We come in here like once every month. I don't think she notices me any different than any normal customer, aside from my dashing good looks, appreciation for female beauty, and generous tipping."

"We come in here and sit in the same spot for five hours ordering a stupidly consistent stream of drinks, snacks, and for you, really greasy food, instead of running to the beach like everyone else. I'm pretty sure she remembers us. She definitely remembers you."

"Are you trying to set me up? Because I do not need you embarrassing me like that."

"Hey, I'm not the one who got a mile high platter of waffles, 'On the house'", she retorted, wiggling her eyebrows at him.

"Hey, stop that! That's my move!" he protested indignantly.

"Really? Cause it looks like she's making all the moves on you!"

"That's my line!"

Artemis cackled unrepentantly, and spent the next two hours making fun of him about it every moment that the waitress was out of earshot. Cameron left a three figure tip for her.

It was funny, how even all these years later, they were still able to disassociate themselves from The Life at a moment's notice. As if they had an on/off switch programmed somewhere in the brains, and right now that switch flipped straight to off whenever they met in this café.

**October, Team Year 4**

When they met next Artemis told the cute barista that it _was_ his birthday. With some convincing lies about Cameron's sentimentality - spun while he was conveniently in the bathroom - she was able to get the entire café staff to sing happy birthday to him to his great embarrassment, and the delight of the rest of the patrons. She made sure to make a show of it, taking pictures, recording a video of the ordeal on her cell phone, and even egging on some of the other patrons to join in.

His birthday had actually been a few weeks prior, in the middle of September, but what they didn't know wouldn't hurt them. Besides, watching Cameron gush under the sudden positive attention, she knew he appreciated the gesture. (Appreciate it or not, he wasn't going tell her that this was the first time in years that someone other than Crystal so much as grunted in recognition of his birthday).

But it was the kiss on the cheek from the cute barista was what really sealed the deal...For Artemis. Cameron's face immediately started to color up, the crimson in his cheeks contrasting against his pale skin like an emergency flare as he tried to sputter a response up. "I'm flattered, really, but uh-"

The waitress - the same Stephanie as before - looked between Cameron's bright face and the look of amusement on Artemis's and drew her own conclusion.

"Oh, my bad, I didn't mean to , I mean, I didn't know you two were a thing!" she sputtered. "It's just, I always see you with the redhead on campus-"

"Oh, we are definitely not a thing," interjected Artemis, barely holding back a fit of laughter.

"Oh, then-" asked Stephanie, a bit confused.

"Yea, uhm," Cameron starts again, trying to wrestle this awkward situation back under his control. Because he was _not_ some 13 year old boy who got flustered the first time a pretty girl gives him attention. _Heh, Artemis, you think this is funny. Watch Jack Frost go to work_ he thought confidently.

But instead Artemis speaks before whatever flirtatious remark he can think of can exit his mouth. "He doesn't swing that way," she says, and Cameron's brain short-circuits trying to make sure he heard her right.

"Oh. _Oh._ I'm sorry, I didn't know," Stephanie says, trying to apologize profusely. "I didn't mean anything by it-"

"That's ok, he's just shy to say anything, and he still loves the company of pretty women. I mean obviously, he sticks to me like glue."

"I am not! I mean, no, what she's saying is-" sputters Cameron, conflicted between keeping his calm in front of Stephanie and trying to kill Artemis with glares.

"That's alright. A damn shame though, you're easy on the eyes," Stephanie offered, giving him a wink as she walked away. The second she was out of eyesight, Artemis burst out into laughter, trying to muffle it in her hands so Stephanie wouldn't hear.

"You absolute asshole, I was totally about to get a date!"

"Oh please, you were _not_ going to ask her out. You were gonna string that poor girl along with your generous tips and cheesy pick-up lines once a month."

"My dashing good looks and suave humor was sweeping her off her feet," at this point Artemis dissolved back into a fit of laughter, "until you ruined it!" he ended on a whiny note.

"Haha, you, ha, totally should have let me, mprh, set you up," she gasped out through barely muffled laughs.

He froze the bottom of her fries to her plate and turned her coffee from the scalding hot she preferred to a gross mildly cool temperature.

It didn't stop her from laughing all the way home at his expense.

**November, Team Year 4**

In November he had his first pumpkin spice latte, and would have spat it out if Stephanie hadn't been watching him taste it.

"Well? What do you think? It's my own special mix," she asked, waiting in anticipation.

Cameron shoved the monstrosity down his throat and faked a smile. "It's great."

He waited for her to get out of earshot before complaining to Artemis. "This is the most basic food you have _ever_ convinced me to eat."

"It's actually pretty good. Pumpkin just must not be your flavor."

"The west coast has horrible taste."

"The guy whose favorite ice cream flavor is vanilla wants to lecture me about being basic?"

…

The second time they came back that month, Cameron came with the news that he'd taken and and passed his GED. They made the spontaneous decision to celebrate by taking on _The Rubber Ducky's_ thanksgiving special, some unholy combination of turkey legs, roast duck, and pumpkin pie. Neither could wrap their head around why a beachside café in southern California would serve any such concoction, but this wasn't exactly a traditional café.

"It feels nice. Not the same as walking across the stage and graduating but…it's nice, you know." Cameron said, ripping into a turkey leg that had no business being served here.

"You know college isn't that hard to get into, and that would definitely include walking across the stage…" Artemis suggested, taking a bite of pie.

"Baby steps Rapunzel. Baby steps." It wasn't a ringing endorsement, but it wasn't a refusal either.

It was nice.

In hindsight, he should have known it wouldn't last.

…

The night after Thanksgiving, he got a call for a new job. The pay wasn't good and the gig was not his first, second, or even third choice, but the voice on the other end spoke of a favor his father owed him, and how promises were made that _junior would take care of it._ It was followed quickly by a call from one of his dad's several illegally obtained burner phones, reiterating how _it's important to maintain these connections junior. I've got enemies on the inside and outside waiting for me to slip up_. _This isn't optional._

Even with the staticky connection and the knowledge that his father was still in his prison cell, he felt his throat close up at the sound of his dad's voice and suppressed the strong, gnawing urge to hang up and smash the phone against the wall of his crummy apartment. To go straight to Belle Revve during visiting hours and flip his dad the bird.

Was he strong or weak for resisting that urge? He wasn't sure.

**December, Team Year 4**

Cameron didn't show up to the café at all the next month. Didn't send a text-message, make a phone call, anything. He _did_ call to pre-pay for a mint mojito iced coffee with instructions to "hand it to the blonde with a bad attitude and annoyingly long hair", or so Stephanie told her when she stopped for a pick-me-up after a rough final.

Artemis took that for what it was: An apologetic non-apology for not showing, and a notice that he wasn't dead or captured somewhere. Beyond that, she didn't know, and she assumed she likely didn't want to know.

It was News Years Eve when she next heard any news about Cameron.

She was with Wally, visiting Mount Justice for a Team get together when she overheard Dick & Kaldur speaking about a new criminal task force they thought was being used as a new pawn for The Light. Icicle Junior was mentioned among its known members, and she vaguely overheard them talk about various misdeeds being committed somewhere in Eastern Europe, but once the two saw their friends approaching the conversation changed gears and never went back.

She didn't get a text, but she already knew not to show up in January.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Fluff giveth, but angst taketh. To clarify the timeline, this chapter started early in Team Year 4, and ended at the beginning of Team Year 5. Be safe over the holidays, and keep in mind that we may have to make individual sacrifices about what we do in order to help the community as a whole.


	21. Death In The Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Artemis may have been on the opposite side of the law, but deep down inside, she had to have known, just like me, that we were here for a good time, not a long time."
> 
> Ages: Artemis is 19, Cameron is 21.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In honor of the 10 year anniversary of YJ's premiere date.

**Spring, Team Year 5**

He found out sitting at a sleazy North Carolina bar, chatting with Tommy Terror of all people. Not the most dignified person to inform you about the death of your ex-best friend of five years, your first crush, first heartbreak, and somewhat estranged current friend. But the universe had never really given too much consideration about dignity when it came to Cameron.

"Manta's kid did 'er in real good, durin' the attack on that there satellite," Tommy told him, his southern drawl echoing against the hard seats of the booth and only amplifying the pride in his voice, as if he was the one to have killed Artemis.

"Aqualad?" Cameron asked, his ears not quite believing what he was hearing. He'd heard the rumors that the Atlantean had switched sides but he neither believed them. He'd gone toe to toe with Aqualad enough times to seriously doubt any claims that he'd suddenly switched sides, until now. Because Tommy Terror doesn't just make stuff like this up.

"Ain't no lad anymore," snickered Tommy.

"How can you be sure he really killed her?" Cameron asked, trying his best to hide any shakiness from showing in his voice.

"Everyone been talkin' 'bout it. Word is her little team ain't been since since it happened, but they gott'sa be plotting somethin' fierce against that aqualad feller. I reckon they're madder than a southern rattlesnake right 'bout now." Tommy paused mid rant to narrow his eyes at Cameron. "But you didn't hear none of this from me, and you'd be wise not repeat it to no-one. Not until word spreads 'round."

Cameron nodded dumbly, trying to think it through while Tommy continued talking about the "far reachin' implications of this thang." Something about the heroes being excessively violent the last time they allegedly lost a member.

Later, after Tommy left and he found himself nursing a drink that wouldn't get him anywhere close to drunk, Cameron was still wrapping his mind around this new reality. He felt a tangled mixture of feelings that he couldn't quiet decipher from one another. Grief? Anger? Disappointment?

Artemis had gotten out. _She'd been done._ Made something better of herself, even if it had partially come at his expense. She was supposed to finish college and get married and have kids with that soulless ginger. She was going to grow old and into an annoying grandmother who spoiled her grandkids way too much but still beat up purse-snatchers.

She wasn't supposed to _die._ That was wrong, it was _wrong, wrong, wrong_ and the more he thought about it the less sense it made. So he numbed himself, before the emotions took over and fell apart. Whatever he felt for Artemis, he couldn't afford to open that Pandora's box, not if he wanted to keep his wits about him. He reminded himself that he wasn't a stranger to death, and she knew the risks of her actions. She was retired, and she chose to put that uniform back on, just like he'd predicted. And she paid the ultimate price for it.

When Tommy Terror came to his motel room the next day offering him a job working for Black Manta and his bastard son - and wow, _that's new_ , because he'd never associated Aqualad with being a bastard before - he didn't think about the offer for long. It was a long-term gig, well paid, with lots of structure and assurances of rescue in case of capture. Once you got to bosses of a certain stature, such assurances actually held some truth in them, and it was certainly better than another high risk bank job or the low paying, demeaning grunt-work that was available for C-list villains like him.

It also gave him plenty of time to be close to Aqualad. _No, she wouldn't want that_ he told himself, and then let out a broken laugh because he had to correct himself to _she wouldn't have wanted that_.

Taking the job meant he would miss the funeral. _But I don't know where the funeral was going to be anyway_. Or when. Finding out would lead dangerously close to opening that Pandora's Box of emotions he was trying to keep shut tight.

 _Not like I'd be welcome there anyway_ he thought bitterly. Who would even recognize him as anything other than an enemy? Her friends would attack on sight. Artemis's mom? Would be disgusted when she realized he wasn't just some good Samaritan, but someone who had been corrupting her child when she was locked up in prison. Jade? Probably wouldn't be there, and wouldn't be friendly if she was.

He wondered about Sportsmaster, of all people. After all, there was a code to attacking family of a made man, and while Tommy didn't know his identity, there was no away Aqualad didn't. Having your daughter taken out by another major player's kid, without advance notice? He was going to be on the warpath.

_If he wasn't in on it._

_In the end, it doesn't really matter, does it?_ he asked himself as he packed a go-bag for the new job. This outcome wasn't really different from what was expected in their line of work. Artemis may have been on the opposite side of the law, but deep down inside, _she had to have known, just like me, that we were here for a good time, not a long time._

Funny thing was, he didn't remember the last time he felt like things were good.

…

Artemis Crock was feeling _great_.

Suited up in her new Tigress gear and with the glamour charm on, she was on a speedboat with Kaldur – her supposed murderer – making a beeline for the rendezvous point with the submarine. There were no words spoken between the two, both sifting their own different thoughts.

Where Kaldur's surface of stoicism was matched by a singular focus to end his father's reign, Artemis's mask of stony impassivity was just that: A mask. Underneath that unbothered exterior, her heart was beating a little too fast, her muscles pulled a little too taught, both symptoms of her prolonged absence from the perpetual fight against evil. But it was an exhilarating nervousness, like what she used to feel when she first realized she could master archery.

It was as if the wind was blowing away her guilt: Worries about leaving Wally behind, about lying to her mother, about letting her friends bury her. She knew those would come back, but for now, they were being replaced by the vicious pull of adrenaline that came with danger, almost as familiar to her as how to breathe. The hunt was back, and it felt just as good as lining up a target in her sights. Just as good as landing a flying kick right on the ribs and hearing the sick _crunch_ of combat boots on bone.

Behind Kaldur, Artemis, _Tigress,_ let out a smile that went almost as wide as the Cheshire cat's.

_It's good to be back._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hope you all enjoy the holiday break in a safe way. Thanks for reading!


	22. Ghosts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "It was like he was staring at a murky reflection in a lake whose waters were just a bit too turbulent to form a clear image: Every time he got close to a definitive image, it creased back into blurry oblivion. If he didn't know any better, he'd say the constant feeling bubbling in the back of his conscious about Tigress was recognition."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Am I behind on this update? Yes. BUT, my internship was wrapping up, so things were hectic and I've run through all the buffer chapters I'd written/had in draft mode. Luckily I should have more time soon to get back to the normal 1-2 week update pace.
> 
> This chapter takes place during Season 2. For a clearer view on the timeline, canonically Artemis goes undercover with Kaldur at the end of March, and her cover/Season 2 ends at the end of June.
> 
> Ages: Artemis is 19, Cam

**Early Spring, Team Year 5**

He was on the submarine within forty-eight hours of being offered the position, submerged who-knows how deep underwater in a sub filled with mercenaries and the head honcho himself: Black Manta, accompanied by his ex-hero son.

_Not the most uncomfortable situation, but not exactly the Ritz_ Cameron thought to himself as he waited in the debriefing room. He lounged in one of the uncomfortable chairs, while to the right of him the Terror Twins sat close together, murmuring loudly about the smell of "fish" to each other. Around the room all of the mercenary squad leaders were waiting as well, their faces visible with the giant manta masks actually taken off for once. Which also meant that their glares towards the metahuman contractors were visible. The Terror Twins must've picked up on them quickly because their murmuring escalated to much louder insults.

"Whoowee, if I wanted to smell the dumpster of a Red Lobster, I coulda done that without all this work, am I right sis?" snickered Tommy.

"You coulda just smelled yerself in the afternoon if that's what ya wanted. That smell's probably worse 'an this here contraption. And at least some of these mermen are easy on the eyes," Tuppence replied, aggressively staring down some of the more attractive mercenary leaders.

"Oh yea? Lemme know which ones and I can fix that right there. Them purdy boys can get real 'quainted with my fists." Tommy continued, his eyes roaming around the room before latching onto one of the squad leaders closest to Tuppence. "You eyein ma sis there fish boy? Huh?"

"Only thing I'm eying is your ugly face," he responded coolly, unfazed by the larger meta's threatening posture. _Huh_ thought Cameron, who was used to watching Tommy threaten men over his sister, _Good to know Manta doesn't let punks rise through the ranks._

"Oooh, that feller's got a mouth on him," sniggered Tuppence while Tommy's face grew red.

The male terror twin stood up, hands already formed in fists. "Say that to my face again mer-thing!" he growled, moving closer towards the merc.

Still seated, Cameron looked around and noticed several of the squad leaders inching their hands towards their weapons, including ones that were looking at him apprehensively. He swore under his breath and shook his head to himself as if to say _here we go again._

Just as it looked like the situation would devolve into a full out brawl, the _whoosh_ of sliding mechanical doors and the swift march of combat boots on steel alerted everyone to the entrance of their bosses. Black Manta and his son both entered unmasked, the familial resemblance between the two on full display. However, it was the third person who walked into the room caught Cameron's attention: Kaldur was flanked by a raven-haired masked vigilante who hadn't been mentioned before. She was new, unexpected, and quiet.

"If we're done acting like fools here," interjected Black Manta, his glare focused on Tommy Terror, "We have a debriefing to begin."

Just like that, all the squad leaders were back at attention, the impending fight presumably forgotten. Tommy looked around for a second, glaring between the mercenary he was about to fight and Black Manta, before ultimately deciding against more antagonization. With that conformation now fizzled, the tension in the room decreased significantly and Manta was quick to let his son start the debrief.

Cameron listened closely enough to take in the important information, but his focused honed in on the raven-haired associated – Tigress, as Black Manta had introduced her – and how she fell in with Manta's crew. She wasn't wearing his crew's uniform or anything close to it, and he'd never heard of any Tigress before. And yet, her very presence screamed _deadly_ to all of Cameron's Gotham-bred instincts.

Maybe it was the black and orange outfit: It had parallels to Deathstroke's style, but last he heard the man didn't have an apprentice at the moment. And Ravager[1] had been _painfully_ clear the last time he'd asked about her dad that she was not in kahoots in with him.

_Maybe daddy Deathstroke is getting some petty payback with a new_ _apprentice_ he mused while Kaldur droned on about "operational diligence" and "minimal margins for error", using large vocabulary words that Cameron remembered from their various fights on opposite sides of the law. None of them explained the appearance of his partner or what her role in this little shindig was, but based on the glare she was levelling at everyone and her proximity to the Manta family, she was someone who'd be barking orders at him soon enough. And if that wasn't obvious, Tommy Terror took that moment to fill Cameron in.

"That there's the boss man's son's lady deputy thang. Figures she's 'nother boss fer us ta listen to," the Terror twin grunted into his ear in what he considered to be a whisper.

Cameron took that information in stride and decided to wait until the end of the debriefing and approach her. In his mind, he planned to simply introduce himself with a cheesy joke, establishing his usual knucklehead "Junior" persona to yet another villain, and see if he could pry anything out of her. Why he chose at the last second to instead hit on her in front of a crowd was something he would have to ponder later, because he barely got through his disgustingly cheesy pickup line before he was pinned against the wall with his wrist twisted at a very dangerous angle. The room went still, with Manta and some of the squad leaders already out the door, but everyone who hadn't left focused their singular attention on him. Everyone _including_ Manta's son, whose glare he could just _feel_ emanating in his direction.

"Quite the grip there," Cameron said, trying to sound humorous between gritted teeth.

"Quite the mouth on you," she shot back, twisting his wrist even more and digging her elbow into his back with a vengeance. Cameron gritted his teeth even harder, forcing down any audible sound of pain, and then twisted his neck to somewhat face her. With her face somewhat in view, he raised an eyebrow through his grimace.

"I was just curious what the name was...beautiful." The elbow in in his back managed to find an even more painful angle in response, and this time he couldn't stop the grunt of pain before it left his lips. For his misery he could've sworn he saw a whisper of a smirk, but it was gone as fast as it came.

"Tigress is good enough for you," she answered harshly, finally releasing her grip on his wrist. "And next time you say something like that to me again, you'll lose your ability to ask questions for a while."

"Noted babe," he answered with a cheeky smile, rubbing his wrist. Before she could respond with some other form of violence, Kaldur cleared his throat loudly.

"As entertaining as it is to watch yet another one of our new contractors play the fool, we have more pressing concerns to address. Tigress," he said, gesturing with his head for her to follow. She stepped in line behind him quickly, the two moving with the quick purpose of people who actually did have something important to do. The second they both exited the room, the Terror twins broke out into guffaws in their loud, southern fashion. Even some of the stoic squad leaders seemed to be amused, but they were content to leave to return to whatever various duties they had around the submarine, letting the echoing laughter of the Terror Twins speak for all of them. Cameron didn't so much as blush as brushed himself off, rubbing the kinks out of his back before heading towards his new living quarters.

_Just another day at the office._

…

It didn't take too long for Cameron to start settling into his room. Being underwater wasn't exactly comfortable, but any idiot could see why Black Manta preferred it to the surface world. In the marine environment he was in his home element, surrounded by allies and with more space to run and hide than almost anywhere else in the world. It was the same reason why Cameron still preferred spending the harshest winter months in Gotham, comforted by the familiar run-down alleys and the cold that never bothered him. Familiarity meant more escape routes, better odds of seeing an attack coming. Familiarity could be the difference between slinking home with bruises and getting dragged to prison.

Prison.

_Almost five years now_. Almost five years removed from the day he was first marched into Belle Revve, and he still felt the mark it left on his soul. Not to mention the physical scars it left all across his body. He wouldn't lie, none of those scars caused him the most pain he'd ever experienced in his life. No, there were far too many incidents with his fath – "Nope. Not going there," he muttered aloud to himself, forcing those thoughts away.

Sitting up in his bed, he stretched his arms and, looking for something else to occupy his mind, glanced around to take in the room that was going to be his home for the next few months. It was barren, devoid of any sort of personal touch. It wasn't small, but definitely not spacious. Overall, the living situation was bigger and more comfortable than he expected, but the bleak impersonality that drenched the entire room reminded him too much of his prison cell. And that _...not going there._

Closing the door to childhood traumas yet again, he found his thoughts drifting back to the raven-haired mercenary that he'd already managed to piss off. There was something about Tigress that didn't sit right with him, beyond not knowing anything about her. He didn't quite notice it when she had his face smooshed into a metal wall, but it became more apparent to him each time they were in the same room, which was often. She was often the one directly barking out orders to him and the Terror Twins, while Manta's son presumably worried about bigger things. Her presence made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up in a way that didn't quite scream danger but definitely said _this isn't right_ over and over again.

He tried to brush it off as his own personal paranoia, but over the next few days she remained an enigma in his mind, tugging at some distant memory like an itch he couldn't scratch. Her name was familiar in a distant kind of way, like the voice of a cartoon character from a show you hadn't watched since you were little. Her face and voice weren't recognizable at all, but some of her mannerisms were familiar. The way she moved her arm to block easy access to her plate when she ate in the cafeteria, but didn't quite hunch over like he'd been taught to in prison. The way her eyes were constantly roaming, scanning for weak points and exit strategies, but with a calculated calm that came with years of practice and the confidence that said she was the threat, not the victim.

They were the mannerisms of a trained mercenary. _Or someone who grew up in Gotham_ his brain added snidely.

...

He dared her to spar with him, and she refused without even giving it a second thought. So he dared her again, this time much more publicly.

"I mean, unless you're too chicken for it. Don't worry, I get it. I'd be scared to get embarrassed in front of all my new employees too," he bellowed loudly as henchmen milled in and out of the combat room. Tigress stiffened slightly, and Cameron's grin grew wider. Around him he noticed some of the henchmen looking on at the spectacle. More importantly, _she_ noticed _._ "Here, I'll even hold back form using my powers, make it a fair fight," he goaded.

Tigress turned to look Cameron, glazing his form over with a look of _almost_ pure indifference. He could see the sheen of annoyance in her eyes, and internally he willed her to show more of it _._ _Come on. Let's see what makes you tick._ He didn't expect to win, but the easiest way to figure out what kind of villain you were working with was to put them on the spot in front of a crowd. Tease out what they were like. It was a trick he picked up from Crystal.

_"It's a careful line. You can't embarrass them too much, or they'll have to make a real example out of you. You gotta get them just pissed enough to see what's closest to their natural reaction. Some half-cocked nut, an idiot who wants to take over the world, or a punk with something to prove? They'll go overboard, either because their crazy or they're scared overcompensating. But a real professional will hold back. Those are the ones you gotta be scared of."_

"Keep your powers _junior_ ," Tigress said coldly, walking past him to the combat mat. "It's always nice for an opportunity to inspire some confidence in the troops."

She took him down quickly and brutally, to more than a few snickers in the background. She fought methodically, quick and to the point without any of the posturing, taunting, or gloating that he was used to.

It was thoroughly unsatisfying, but even the quick brutality that he lost with came with it's own familiarity. It was over to quick for him to place it, but the fighting style reminded him of something, or someone. It was like he was staring at a murky reflection in a lake whose waters were just a bit too turbulent to form a clear image: Every time he got close to a definitive image, it creased back into blurry oblivion. If he didn't know any better, he'd say the constant feeling bubbling in the back of his conscious about Tigress was recognition.

The only problem was that he hadn't heard of her until this job started, which made him wonder where exactly she met Kaldur. It was odd for someone so new to the criminal world to have such a capable right hand partner, that no one had heard about. _And no one just teams up with a former hero. Especially not someone that good, who spent that long being under the radar._

_Maybe they're a thing._ But even that would have made the rounds of henchmen gossip by now. As things stood, "Icicle Jr" was low on the villain credibility totem pole, but between his father's reputation and the various jobs he was pulling between the different factions of the criminal world, he'd learned to play stupid and keep his ears open. It was amazing what people let slip when they thought you were a two-bit nobody. Stupid as people assumed he was, he _survived_ this long by knowing how to use that presumed idiocy to his advantage.

Which meant he always knew more than people thought he did. He knew exactly how much the take was in a job, even if the jerks who he was working with were lying to stiff him. He didn't know what Tigress was making from this gig. He usually knew why or had some idea of why a job was being carried: Money, power, revenge, in the case of Kaldur, all of the above and family. He didn't know why Tigress was on this ship, and assuming someone that skilled was only in it for money was dangerous. He knew which buttons to press when he wanted to subtly turn his coworkers or supervisors against each other. But he couldn't do that to Tigress or Manta when he didn't know how they fit in together.

All of that not knowing...it was like a bright emergency flare going up over and over again. And it wasn't just Tigress. Kaldur made him feel uneasy too. Everyday the idea of this respected young superhero switching sides, regardless of whatever family drama was involved, seemed to suspicious. Even in his mind, which had spent years justifying all sorts of things for his own messed up father-son relationship, it was a half-step too far.

And then not a full week into his assignment the Atlantean took them right to his old team's headquarters, thrashed his old team, and blew the entire mountain sky high with members still present inside. That crushed the doubts he had about his loyalty, or about the accounts of him killing Artemis. And if it hadn't, the look of anger, betrayal, and hurt on his teammates sealed the deal. That, he knew, was an emotion that was far too hard to fake.

Whatever it was about Tigress that was bothering his subconscious, he resolved to leave it alone.

Somethings were above his paygrade.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know they spent a lot of time in the 5 year gap setting up backstories, but in my canon Cameron is naturally distrustful. And seeing as how Artemis had a supervillain dad and was his frenemy, Kaldur switching sides "because my dad" wouldn't have been a good enough reason for him not to be suspicious. Next chapter we'll look at Artemis' thoughts on the situation. Thanks for reading!
> 
> [1]Ravager = Deathstroke's daughter. Name-dropped her but I'm not sure if I'll use her in this fic or not.


	23. Interlude for a Conscience

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Lying to everyone about everything came naturally when it was her and Kaldur surrounded by enemies. But ordering around her former best friend turned kind-of-reconciled-friend who no doubt heard of her death? That wasn't on her mental docket."
> 
> Ages: Artemis is 19, Cameron is 21.

**Early Spring, Team Year 5**

Even in "retirement", Artemis stayed in peak conditioning. She treated sparring sessions with old teammates like actual combat missions, and to Wally's annoyance, stuck to the almost obsessive training regimen that her body had been used to since junior high. The physical aspect of being back in the field required no real preparation. It was the mental and emotional toll that loomed large. That was what Dick warned her about the most leading up to the mission.

_"The hardest part of undercover work is always mental."_

_"As long as your mind is focused, everything else will come naturally."_

_"Don't let your thoughts wander about what's happening back home. Focus on what's in front of you."_

She expected overwhelming guilt to hit her the second the initial shock of going undercover wore out, but it didn't materialize. Instead, it was subdued by the constant adrenaline rush of being behind enemy lines and Kaldur's calm, stoic presence. At first she surprised herself with how well she could compartmentalize, but the more she thought about it the more sense it made: _Between mom, dad, & Jade, I've got years of experience._

That confidence shattered into a million crystalline pieces when she walked into her first debriefing session and saw Cameron sitting right next to Tuppence Terror.

Her arrival with Kaldur & Black Manta interrupted some sort of brewing scuffle, but it didn't really register in her conscious. No, her first legible thought was _why the hell wasn't this mentioned in the mission briefing._ Then she remembered Dick & Wally didn't know that Cameron would be any different to her than the other villains and her second legible thought was to berate herself mentally. _You knew he was working on some sort of team. You should have thought about this possibility._

She spent the entire debriefing session purposefully ignoring the curious looks Cameron was shooting her way. _He doesn't recognize you. He can't recognize you. The Glamour Charm is too good._ Tigress didn't know Cam- _no, Icicle Jr._ , and she had no reason to acknowledge his existence earlier than necessary. Or be friendly about it when she did.

That's what she told herself when she shoved his face into the wall and snarled a response to some garbage pickup line he used on her after the debriefing. Not because twisting his arm and shoving his face into a wall was practically a default reaction of hers to all of his pickup lines. The one he used wasn't even original: She remembered him using it on Jenna in 8th grade. He got slapped in the middle of study hall & detention, and she'd gotten hours worth of laughs out of the entire ordeal.

 _"I just was just curious what the name was...beautiful,"_ he'd said, smirking through the pain. She could see his eyes searching her face, trying and failing to get a read on her. It scared her more than a little bit how hard it was to bite back a smirk and add _"Curiosity killed the idiot, Frostbite,"_ or that she wasn't sure what exactly she would have ended up saying at the end of that exchange if Kaldur hadn't intervened.

Later she replayed the whole scenario from the privacy of her personal quarters, and didn't like what she saw. _That was dangerous._ _Mistakes like that get you killed_.

Lying to everyone about everything came naturally when it was her and Kaldur surrounded by enemies. But ordering around her former best friend turned kind-of-reconciled-friend who no doubt heard of her death? That wasn't on her mental docket, and when she saw him among the crew it took every ounce of her willpower to keep a stoic face. To treat him like the irrelevant, if not annoying, henchmen that Tigress was supposed to see him as. While that was easier said than done in his presence, there were more than enough things to keep her helpfully distracted.

Like blowing up Mount Justice.

"Is it really necessary?" she asked Kaldur tersely while they were huddled in one of the more isolated storage rooms.

"There are still doubts about my loyalty, and surely now, yours. We need to make it clear where our allegiances lie," Kaldur answered. _And blowing up our old hangout will silence any critics_ went unsaid.

"But this is...this is extreme." _It's our home._

Kaldur sighed. "I know. But when our mission is complete, it will be worth it." _I hope._

In the end it was another egregious act to add to the growing list of betrayals she was committing against her friends. Her family. Watching the source of so many positive memories go up in a plume of smoke and fire was physically painful, but she forced herself to remember what was at stake. What had made her take on this mission on the first place. _Just the fate of the planet_ _Artemis. No biggie._

So she carried on.

She resisted the urge to punch Cameron every time he uttered a disgusting pick-up line to Tuppence Terror, knowing that he was trying – and failing epically – to put on some bad boy suave he did not have. She trained the henchmen daily, walking a fine line between doing a good job as a lieutenant and making sure not to teach any of them tactics that could be _too_ effective against her teammates. When they were deployed on missions with the metahuman mercenaries she stuck by Kaldur's side or, if she absolutely had to, tried to link up with one of the Terror Twins. Fighting with Cameron was dangerous: Even years removed from their last real sparring session or mission together, she knew how easy it would be to fall into an old rhythm.

Even if no one else noticed, Cameron & Kaldur would. And that would bring questions she didn't want to answer.

Through the first few weeks the most personal interaction they had was when he all but called her a coward in front of the entire combat room.

 _"Here, I'll even hold back form using my powers, make it a fair fight."_ He wore the same damned smirk from years ago, full of confidence despite knowing he was going to get his ass handed to him. He was baiting her. She knew he was baiting her. She was _literally right there_ for their lesson in "How to bait a bad guy into blowing their cool 101".

That didn't stop her from taking him down hard. Or using it as another opportunity to remind any watching henchmen why the mysterious Tigress jumped all of them for a promotion. And if there was a touch of excessive force, well, she was just playing her role.

Outside of that, he restrained himself from pestering her. In fact, he seemed more restrained in general. He made crude jokes and grinned wide and acted like an annoyance to others, but his jokes lacked their normal zest and his smiles seemed fake. He ate alone. He worked out alone. If it wasn't mission related, he talked to no one outside of an occasional conversation with a Terror Twin. It was so...different from before. When they were younger and Cameron was always thrumming with nervous energy that he channeled into constant banter.

She wondered if this was just how he was on the job these days. _Or did he change once he found out I died?_ Did he come looking for confirmation when he heard? Did he know it was Kaldur who "murdered" her? If he did, why the hell was he working for him? If things were different, was he planning to eventually come back to their Switzerland in that stupid beachside café? If so, wouldn't this be the second time she'd cut the cord with no warning? Abandoned their friendship?

 _Stop. Focus on the mission,_ her subconscious warned.

But it was too late. That last question started a spiral, and whatever dam that kept her guilt at bay collapsed and it all started to flood her mind. If letting Cameron think she was dead was abandoning their friendship, what exactly was she doing to everyone else? What was actively lying to her friends, her teammates? Going to sleep every night on a stiff bed, knowing that Wally was probably staying up praying to every cosmic force for her safe return. _Letting mom think I'm dead?_

_It's been three weeks._

Her funeral would have happened by now. Her mother would have buried her. Would Jade have showed up? Would her mother blame the heroes present for bringing Artemis out of retirement, only to "die"? How many of them were blaming themselves for not saving her? How was Wally holding up, having to lie to everyone's face?

She found herself in her room staring at her reflection in the mirror while she swirled in the morass of guilt and self-loathing, gripping the sides of the sink until she could hear it creak. It was all too much.

_"For people like you and me, The Life is all we've ever known. You think you can really walk away from it?"_

Cameron had asked her that question with restrained curiosity at that bakery in Metropolis. She knew that it was his way of searching, desperately, for a way out, even if he wouldn't admit it. Logically, she knew that. But now, staring at the mirror and relieving that question, she didn't hear Cameron asking. She heard her father, his voice dripping in a sadistic glee, the words grating against her ears.

Her fist connected with the mirror, and she relished the feeling of fragile glass shattering under her combat gloves.

 _Cameron came back for this? He couldn't say no this?_ she wondered bitterly.

And then she looked back at the cracked reflection in the mirror and remembered _I couldn't say no to this either._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In my headspace, art I of this fic was leading up to season 1, and Part II was season 1 through the five year gap, Part III is season 2. Part IV is what comes after. I'm still tweaking the outline of Part IV, and how far I want to go before the fic ends.
> 
> Leave your thoughts/comments below!


	24. Warmer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cameron investigates. The Terror Twins make an appearance.
> 
> Ages: Artemis is 19. Cameron is 21.

**Spring, Team Year 5**

A month into his Black Manta assignment and Cameron Mahkent decided that some things were not above his paygrade.

"So you mean you never actually saw Tigress before she came on board the ship?" he asked Tommy Terror, who was in the middle of annihilating his food. The two were hunched in Tommy's filthy quarters, at Cameron's request and subsequent bribing with food. Even for a Gothamite, the room was messy: Stinky clothes were strewn everywhere. Plates with bits and gobs of food from the cafeteria were littered on the periphery of the room. A trashbin in the corner was filled with towels stained a dark brown/red color suspiciously close to old blood which was odd, given that Tommy Terror didn't tend to bleed that much.

Cameron couldn't help but think the room was a reflection of its inhabitant, but this wasn't a conversation he wanted the wrong person to overhear. So he put up with the disgusting conditions.

"Nah, we ran 'n different circles and all that ya see?" The hulking twin answered in between bites. "But I heard through the grapevine 'bout some of her exploitations and whatnot."

"Such as?" Cameron asked, trying not to sound too ager.

Tommy took another mouthful of whatever meaty slop they were serving at the cafeteria today. It was supposedly fish-based, which seemed a little odd for a ship being run by an Atlantean villain. Or extremely petty. Who was Cameron to judge?

"Ehh, I never heard nothing concrete. Just talk here 'n there 'bout some Tigress chick making big moves on the west coast. Didn't think much of 'er really, 'cept I overheard some 'a Manta's guys saying the timing of her showing up was weird."

_Yes._ Henchman gossip was one of the easiest ways to get information, if you could sift through all the inane theories. "How so?"

"Eh," Tommy shrugged. "Something 'bout her comin' on right after Manta's boy blew up that rocket and killed that blonde archer girl. I think they was tryna say gill-boy was getting rewarded fer it by gettin' ta bring his girl on board, without having the gills to say it out loud, ya know?"

"Wait, do you think Tigress & Kaldur are a thing?" Cameron asked, deciding now wasn't the time to point out to Tommy that gill-based insults may not be the wisest choice given his current employers.

"Nah, them was just some sour grapes. Prolly just mad because she leveled up ta be the boss lady so quickly."

"Black Manta and his kid are the real bosses, not her."

"What'sa matter junior? You mad she ain't been responding kindly to your uh," Tommy leaned in with a nasty grin "invitations?"

"You impugn my sterling reputation with such lascivious accusations," Cameron responded, drawling out his words in his own imitation of a southern accent.

Tommy stared at him for a moment, trying to process if that was an attempt to insult him. Evidently he decided it wasn't, because he went back to shoveling food into his mouth. "You're a weird one ya know that Mahkent? But I'll tolerate ya for this job, 'suming you can keep your grubby hands away from my sister." Tommy took a moment to pause from eating, narrowing his eyes at Cameron and giving him a rather terrifying look. "Else I'll have to show you that there southern hospitality us terror twins are known for."

"You mean to tell me that all this time my charm hasn't had any affect on either of you? I'm hurt."

"Keep messin' with Tuppence and you'll really be hurt."

"Hey, no need for that. I've got what I need anyway," Cameron answered, deciding he didn't want to risk lighting Tommy's notoriously short fuse.

"Why you so interested in Tigress anywhos?"

"She's a beautiful assassin mercenary ninja lady who bosses me around. Just my type," the cryokinetic answered with a shrug. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell her I was asking around."

"Just make sure I'm 'round next time you try an' fight her, an' I'll call it even."

"That's a deal." Cameron gave him a two finger salute as he retreated to his own quarters to sink in the new information. He still wasn't sure what he'd hoped to learn from this conversation, but what he'd gotten did nothing to sate his curiosity. Tommy Terror hadn't heard more than rumors about Tigress before she arrived, and Cameron – who _knew_ he had a better ear to the underworld than a Terror twin – certainly hadn't heard anything about her before this.

_Come on Cameron. Think._

Tigress was supposedly some freelancer who earned Aqua- _Kaldur's_ trust and clearly had the skill to match her supposed experience. And yet, he couldn't find anything but whispers of shadows of supposed possible jobs she had completed. And that was _after_ asking around and taking the risk that his phone line was being tapped. No one he could talk to had actually met Tigress, but they'd _all_ heard something or knew someone who heard something about her in the last few months.

_Too many red flags here. People this good don't just appear out of thin air._

Whatever mental itch he had that needed to be scratched, watching Mount Justice turn to a crater had only sated it for a short time. Now, it was back stronger than before. At the same time, every fiber of self-preservation in his cold body told him to stop digging. Villains didn't like underlings who asked too many questions. The smart thing to do would be to leave the issue, finish the job with his head down, and then stay the hell away from Tigress or whoever she actually was.

_Well, no one ever accused me of being smart._

…

He thought he was starting to lose it when he first compared her to Artemis. It was after a mission on the coast of Portugal went sideways, leaving half of their expedition squad in the med wing and the other half badly bruised. It was supposed to be an easy smash and grab job on some government facility, so when Tigress assigned Cameron & the Terror Twins to patrol the perimeter, they hadn't taken it seriously.

_"We're the biggest muscle on this whole damn sub, an' she got us playing guard?" Tommy complained to his sister._

_"Hush up Tommy. This here is easy work."_

_"Easy and boring is what is its," Cameron pitched in, leaning haphazardly against the outer wall. None of them were patrolling as assigned._

It stopped being boring when the Portugese Gendarmerie showed up, uninterested in taking prisoners or asking questions. Ordinarily, stalling non-meta law enforcement would have been a fairly manageable task for three experienced metahuman criminals to handle, even if they arrived unexpected. But ordinarily, government law enforcement came in sirens blazing and with megaphones. They didn't open by firing missiles at their own building, apparently willing to level their own facility to stop whatever was inside from being stolen.

In the end, the mission was a success without any fatalities, but Tigress had been _livid._ She'd taken Cameron & the Terror Twins to the debriefing room and ripped them a new one, her voice a low growl.

"Mistakes like that cost lives. This entire attack squad could be dead right now. Worse, the entire mission could have been compromised." It took him back almost eight years earlier, to a girl who said similar words under very different circumstances.

" _Mistakes like that cost friggin' lives Cam! You could be dead right now!" Artemis scream whispered at him while she patched up a nasty gash across his forehead._

_"I'm fine Arty. We got what we needed."_

It was a reach and he knew it, but after that his treacherous mind started to draw the comparisons everywhere. Cameron wasn't a master of martial arts, focusing on his powers instead, but five years of working with Sportsmaster & Artemis taught him a few things. So when they were in the field and he looked over at Tigress moving in combat, the vague sense of déjà vu over the last few weeks turned into a vision of Artemis. Some of the moves were too different in style and a tad too lethal for Artemis, but other times the image fit seamlessly, like someone copied Tigress and pasted her over Artemis. It happened when he saw her sparring during training sessions too. The way she weaved past projectiles, how she she threw her butterfly kick, the way she moved in some of her takedowns...

He stopped watching her fight when he noticed Black Manta's kid started staring at him.

It wasn't just in the field. He noticed it in her mannerisms. The way she slightly hunched over her food? Artemis used to do that when they ate in public at Gotham, because you never knew which vagrant would steal from right off your plate. He caught her scratching the insider of her thigh once, in almost the same spot Artemis would when she got nervous. Right where the scar from the warehouse incident was. He knew he was losing it when he saw her cross her arms - a perfectly normal, human action - and thought _yea Artemis always crosses...crossed, her arms. Went with her grumpy look._

"Stop it," he growled to himself. _I'm seeing things. Artemis is dead and I'm not dealing with that now and it's seeping into my subconscious and now I'm seeing things._

…

Cameron waited until he knew he could catch her in one of the few blind-spots along the sub's hallway corridors before intercepting Tuppence.

"Heeey Tuppence, if you aren't a sight for sorry eyes," he opened, arms spread wide and a humongous grin on his face.

"Junior, more than your eyes are gonna be sorry if ya here to hit on me," she warned, trying to move past him. Cameron moved with her, using his entire body to block her access and silently hoping she'd let him talk before throwing him out of the way.

"Easy there, I can tell when I'm not fully appreciated," he said, grin unwavering. "I'm actually here to ask you to do me a favor."

"A favor? I swear boy, if this here is some disgusting proposition-"

"Not _that_ kind of favor! My God, how gross of a person do you think I am?" he asked, genuinely repulsed, before adding "Actually, don't answer that. My feelings are already hurt enough."

"Enough jabber jabber. Ya want a favor? What's in it for me?"

"Well, I see how you've been eying that handsome squad leader for a little bit now, and he looks like he's been eying you right back. If you know what I mean."

"What's it to you junior?" she growled, grabbing him menacingly by his shoulders and shoving him against the hallway wall.

_There's a joke here about never getting shoved against the wall in a good way_ Cameron narrated to himself. He'd have to laugh about it later, because right now Tuppence was getting angry.

"Woah woah," he said putting his hands up. "It's nothing to me, but I bet it's difficult to get any uh, quality time with your handsome admirer while poor Tommy is always attached to your hip."

Tuppence's grip tightened on his shoulders, and Cameron was happy he was already in ice-mode because otherwise she'd be giving him some nasty bruises.

"So what, you sayin' do this favor or ya tell Tommy? Huh? Because I don't take kindly to threats junior," she inquired threateningly.

"Woah woah there, again, you're waaayyy off base Tuppence. What I'm trying to say is, I think you would appreciate the luxury of having your own downtime. Away from your brother and in the company of whoever you want."

"Well s'pose I agree you with you. What about it?"

Before he could answer one of the ship's mercenaries turned the corner into the hall and paused as he took the sight in before him.

"Uh...Am I interrupting?" he asked tentatively, unsure what exactly was going on between the two metahuman contractors.

"Yes," Cameron and Tuppence answered in unison.

"I'll just uh, leave then," he answered, taking one last glance at the two before turning around and muttering something about "damn contract hires."

With him gone, Cameron felt Tuppence's glare back on him. "As I was going to say before we were so rudely interrupted, you scratch my back, I scratch yours."

"I already said ain't scratching a damn thing of yours-"

"Not literally Tuppence, goodness. I mean if you take care of my favor, I'll keep your brother out of your hair for a whole afternoon."

At that offer, the Terror Twin's face shifted from menacing to curious. "The whole afternoon?"

"Yup. An afternoon of your choosing. I'll eat lunch with him. Waste a few hours going a million rounds in the combat room. Waste more hours egging him on to fight other guys in the combat room. I know he likes to hit stuff so really, I'll just spend as much time finding him new things to hit."

"The entire afternoon? What are we sayin' here, four hours? Five? Six?"

"If you can't get me what I want, I'll make it six."

She took a moment to ponder the offer, a thoughtful look crossing her face, before she asked "Can you do it this afternoon?"

Cameron shrugged. "Yea, I don't see why not."

"Alright junior, I like the sound of that." She released her hold on him. "Now what the hell is this favor you need so badly?"

"I need a copy of the discovery sub's transport history for a certain week."

"Why can't you do it yourself?"

"Because there's always one of Manta's guys working in that room."

"And? Manta's fellers are all over this ship, all the time. It's their friggin' ship," she said, making a 'duh' expression with her face.

"...And I may have insulted the guards that hang out their today. And every other day. So the second I ask for it, they'll tell me to kick rocks."

Tuppence shot him a smile. It wasn't friendly, but it wasn't exactly menacing either. "Get to yer room. I'll meet you there with what ya need." With that, she turned around and made her way towards the transport log room.

She found him back in his room in a surprisingly punctual twenty minutes.

"Here ya go junior," she said, shoving paper copies of what he needed into his hands. "And keep Tommy busy tomorrow too."

"Hey, I said one afternoon!" he protested.

"-And I just made plans for tomorrow afternoon too so you better help me keep it Tommy free, or I might use you to go kick some rocks," she said, giving him a look that let him know she probably meant that literally.

Cameron sighed. "Yes ma'am."

He didn't look at the papers until later that night, when he was covered in Tommy Terror inflicted bruises, and was pretty sure he could add another half dozen Manta mercs to the list of "coworkers who might shoot me in the back in the field." Egging people into stepping into the ring with Tommy Terror had that effect on people.

Sifting through the transport history, he saw a bunch of movement on March 19. As if Manta had emptied out all of his mercenaries into the transport subs in one go.

_What happened on that date?_

And then he remembered: It was the night Artemis die- the night Manta's crew attacked some rocket launch in Florida, which would explain all the sub movement. But after that, the logs for the rest of the week were practically empty. The only other sub transport use noted in the next 48 hours was later that same night[1]. The documents showed a sub leaving much further north along the east coast with one passenger, and coming back with two.

_That must've been what Tommy was talking about. Tigress coming on board right after Artemi-right after the attack on the rocket._

That couldn't be a coincidence, but Cameron knew he was still missing a piece of the puzzle. A big piece.

_Is that how Tigress got her in with Kaldur? Did she kill Artemis, and then let Kaldur get the credit? Or did he owe her a favor from something else?_

Kaldur killed Artemis – as loathe as Cameron was to think about that – and a few hours later Tigress boarded the ship. There was a connection there somewhere.

_I'm getting warmer._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The whole submarine arc was originally going to be like 2 chapters, but uh, I've gotten carried away. Anyway, I'm starting to get a closer grip on how long this fic will be, and I'm thinking around 40-45 chapters. Which is wild considering I thought it would cap out at 20 when I first started writing it. Much love to everyone whose read/kudosed/commented on this fic!
> 
> Hope everyone is having a good, safe, holiday season.
> 
> [1]Canonically, Artemis "dies" in Cape Canaveral on March 19, and then a few hours later Kaldur picks her up in Bludhaven, where Nightwing gives her the glamour charm.


	25. Recollection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kaldur is worried. Cameron remembers.
> 
> Ages: Artemis is 19. Cameron is 21.

**Spring, Team Year 5**

They got into a routine: It would start off with daily debriefings with squad leaders, followed by breakfast and then another debriefing between Manta, Kaldur, and Tigress. After that, Kaldur would continue the meeting alone with his father, occasionally with The Light present, while Tigress went off to either oversee a mission or work on training with the henchmen. While on the submarine, Kaldur stuck with his father for large swathes of the day while Tigress would rotate around the sub, between sparring, training, and general supervisory duties. The opposite held true in the field, where they spent most of their time together even if they still couldn't risk any honest communication out in the open.

Besides, the teen trafficking they were partaking in had a way of wiping away any appetite for conversation.

They did their best to debrief each other at the end of their day, often keeping their conversations coded so that if anyone overheard, nothing would sound suspicious. If they needed to talk more openly, they met in one of the older storage rooms on the lower deck of the sub. It was small, smelly, and a pain for both of them to get to inconspicuously, but a necessary sacrifice to convey critical information.

So when Kaldur summoned her there after what seemed like a normal day, she was understandably tense.

"I'm growing concerned about Icicle Junior," Kaldur said in a low voice, after they completed their sweep for listening devices. They'd quadrupled checked this room and all the adjacent storage rooms before their first meeting here, but getting caught meant getting killed, so they kept checking before every meeting.

"What about him?" Artemis asked, trying to mask any wariness in her voice.

"He seems to be taking an interest in Tigress. He's been watching you in the field and in the sub with a lot more attention than when we originally arrived."

"I haven't noticed anything other than his usual annoying behavior. Maybe he has a crush." _Or m_ _aybe I messed up and did something he recognized._

"Ordinarily, I would concur, but..." Kaldur trailed off, and she could tell from the look on his face that he was trying to think of how to formulate his words without crossing some perceived boundary.

"But what?"

He looked at her anxiously. "I'm not quite sure how to word this properly."

"Kaldur, if you thought it was important enough for us to meet here, just go out and say it."

"Forgive me if this comes across as offensive, but I know Junior and you have some...shared history. It came up in a conversation with Dick some years ago, but nothing specific was ever discussed."

Alarm bells went off in Artemis' head, specifically _Was Wally in that meeting?_ and the question she verbalized: "Wait, wait, why were you discussing Junior and me in the same conversation?"

"It was after the incident where League operatives kidnapped you in Star city and held you captive for days. When you woke up and were debriefed, you were asked several questions about the ordeal, including questions about your escape. You were adamant that you didn't recognize any of your captors, and that you escaped alone by surprising them during transfer. Batman told me he suspected you of lying, based on your micro expressions."[1]

"If they thought I was lying, why didn't they say anything?" she asked, an undertone of anger starting to seep into her voice.

"When you arrived at Mount Justice and collapsed, there was blood on your hands but you had no visible cuts. The blood was an immediate match for Icicle Junior, and Batman & Green Arrow were adamant that you would have recognized him, especially if you got close enough to have his blood on your hands. They did not explain why they believed so, and I was excluded from the conversation after that. They told me that they would handle the matter and not to mention anything to the team. I see know that they did not discuss it with you."

"No, they certainly did not," she answered angrily, before realizing something else. "But neither did you."

"Well, I deduced that there was no reason for you to lie unless you were doing so to help someone else. Someone like a known criminal, who you had known personal ties to, that may have been inclined to do something foolish such as help a hero. It wasn't a hard assumption to make, given your past experiences with family and Junior's own actions in Belle Revve. "

"You never said anything."

"I knew that discussing that time in your life was something you were averse to. I chose to trust your judgement, and your privacy, but not pursuing the matter."

"Thank you."

"I'm not saying that. But it's not easy to give your all when you know the person on the other side of the law. Something I am now intimately familiar with."

"Isn't that the truth." She slumped against the wall and slid down, mulling over Kaldur's words. Looking back at him, she saw him eyeing her with a contemplative expression, likely waiting an explanation.

"Yes, we knew each other where we were kids. 'Personal ties' doesn't cover the half of it," she started, and Kaldur took note of the bitterness laced in her words. "We grew up together for a while when our dads worked together, but we went our separate ways when his dad took him away to be an official villain. Since thing, things have been...complicated." _Understatement of the decade_ the nagging voice in her head said.

"I could imagine. That would explain why whenever the Team encountered Junior you would insist on taking on that matchup. Then, despite taking down villains who were much bigger threats, it always seemed that he escaped your grasp. What was it Raquel said? That he, 'has your number'?"

Artemis smiled, remembering the first time Raquel pointed that out. She had made the mistake of vehemently denying it, guaranteeing it's presence as a running gag for the next month.

_Raquel laughed from her spot in the Bioship. "Don't take it personally girl! I'm just sayin', you kick ass all day every day, but Junior McScrawny arms always manages to get the drop on you. Maybe he just has your number."_

_"Be careful Wall-Man," Dick piped up, still in the Robin uniform. "Maybe he manages to get away by serenading her over totally more-than-whelming puns and chill-tastic looks."_

_"Hey, don't sell Junior short. He's smarter than you think," Conner added, still shaking snow out of his hair._

_"I don't know, he does a good job of hiding it," M'gann responded, sounding far more mean than she meant._

_"C'mon babe, just admit it. Maybe ice villains are your kryptonite," Wally teased while Artemis sat next to the personal heater Robin gave her, because of course he had one in his utility belt on hand for the aftermath of fights with cryokinetic villains._

_"And maybe you'll learn how to eat like a normal human being one day," she snapped back. She could still hear Cameron snickering after he practically dumped an avalanche on her. She was_ **_not_** _in t_ _he mood._

_"hoooo! nrub!" Zatanna laughed, high fiving Dick and ignoring the glare Artemis sent their way._

_"You guys need to grow up." Artemis grumbled, rubbing her hands together with ferocity._

_"Nope," they all chorused in unison. All except for Kaldur, who merely shook his head in a show of 'disappointment', even as a smile tugged on his lips._

"I wasn't letting him escape," Artemis groused, back in the present day. _Mostly._ Kaldur raised an eyebrow, which she pointedly ignored. "And besides, when I saw him onboard, I didn't want to worry you by mentioning all this stuff."

"I understand that. But I am worried _now._ He knows your name and background, and if he's known your alias for years without turning on your. Your relationship isn't nearly as estranged as the surface may indicate." _Boy,_ Artemis thought, _you don't know the half of it_ "Which means he could potentially harbor negative feelings about my supposed role in your death. Or worse, he could be suspicious of Tigress's sudden appearance."

"Not a chance." _There's maybe a chance._ "Think about it Kaldur: Yea, he recognized that the mouthy, blonde with long hair named Artemis was _the_ Artemis. But other than that, what does he know about me since we went our separate ways?" She asked, pointedly ignoring all of their rendezvous at the café. Or their encounter in Metropolis. Or his tense visit to her and Wally's place. "Definitely not enough to make the connection to Tigress. Trust me, he doesn't know, or if he would played his hand."

"Assuming he hasn't already and we just don't know," Kaldur warned.

"No," Artemis shook her head. "I know his M.O. If he figured it out, which he hasn't, the first thing he'd do is confront me about it. He'd have to be a 100% sure to risk telling anyone else and looking like an idiot if he's wrong."

Kaldur thought about that. "You're more familiar with his personality than I am, so I will defer to your judgement. You're certain there is nothing to be concerned about here?"

_There are so many things to be concerned about._

"Not a thing."

_..._

_"Yea well sooner or later you'll have to deal with the other jackasses as much as I do. Your better have your own alias by then, or they'll give you one."_

_"I already do. When the time comes, I'll be Tigress," she said confidently._

_"Sounds like a stripper name," he snickered._

_"It's something my mom used to call me when I was little_."

The memory came from nowhere, with all the tact and gracefulness of Bane on a venom-induced bender.

Cameron forced himself to clench his jaw shut and keep his eyes staring at his food and _not_ at the orange and black clad villainess sitting on the other side of the room, secluded with Black Manta's son. He steadied his breathing while he let the memory slot into place with everything he'd been experienced recently. The vague recollection of the name. The familiar mannerisms. The murky timeline. The sudden appearance of 'Tigress' as Kaldur's top lieutenant. The fact that she only appeared after Artemis 'died'.

Then it clicked.

For one, absolutely satisfying moment, that mental itch that had been bothering him was finally scratched and he felt almost euphoric.

And then his frontal lobe caught up to his temporal lobe, processing that memory and flitting it into the part of his brain was responsible for producing logical thoughts, and that euphoria exploded into a thousand pieces because Artemis Crock was alive.

Artemis Crock was Tigress.

_What. The. Hell._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, ending the chapter on a cliffhanger? Me? Nooo.
> 
> Anyway, hope you've all had a strong start to the New Year! Thanks for reading and remember: A comment a day keeps Tigress at bay.


	26. Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The truth comes out.
> 
> Ages: Artemis is 19. Cameron is 21.

**Spring, Team Year 5**

Her mind didn't register what exact noise woke her up, just that it was _wrong and wrong means danger._ That instinct had her upright with a hand on the hilt of her sword before she could even start assessing the situation. Combat ready and on her feet, sword two inches out of its sheath before the image could finish coming into focus. her eyes fixated on the unknown figure standing at the opposite end of her living quarters.

"What are you doing in here?" she growled, staring at the pale blue intruder. Freaking _Cameron_ of all people was standing at her mirror, combing his fingers through his hair while he picked at his stubble. He took a few moments to smooth out his hair before looking at her reflection in the mirror.

She took quick notice of his ice armor being completely down. It was the first time she'd seen him on the submarine powered down, because Cameron Mahkent didn't do willingly do that around other people unless he was in public, or had a lot of trust in you.

"About time you woke up," he said, still grooming himself in the mirror. _Is that my frickin comb?_ she thought, briefly annoyed by the sight of it being used to run through his sideburns before her mind focused back on the situation.

"I'm going to ask you again," she repeated, putting her sword back in its sheath but not putting it down. "What are you doing here?"

"You know, I used to have a friend back in the day. She was a little bit crazy and kind of violent, but in that righteous anger way. You could say we were close as thieves." He straightened up and turned around, eyes staring intensely on her face, like he was searching her face for something specific.

"She's supposed to be dead now," he continued. "Haven't had the opportunity to visit her grave, but I figured I might go after this job is over. Show my respect."

"And what does that have to do with me?"

"Not much, except your boyfriend's the one that killed her. Building up credit with his daddy and all. Not that I blame him." He pulled out a ball – she recognized it as one of the stress balls that he brought back from their failed mission in Portugal – and started bouncing it up and down on the floor. "I can't really talk about daddy issues anyway."

"You're gonna have to be more specific than that," she said, grip on her sword tightening.

"No, I don't think I do," he answered, moving to block the door all the while continuing to bounce the ball casually.

"How did you even get inside my room?" she asked. Her door was always locked and Kaldur had told her that the master keys specifically didn't have access to their rooms.

"Brushing up on my skills. And seeing if you're as good as you think. I have to say I'm disappointed with how long it took you to get up. I could have killed you, cooked something in the mess hall, and been tucked back into bed with how long I've been here."

"I'll make sure to pass the message to HR. Is that all, or are you here to get revenge for your friend?" She spoke like his words had no bearing on her, but internally she was reassessing the situation for what it looked like: The isolated environment, the late night arrival. Close quarters, where escaping his powers quickly would be much more difficult. All conducive for a hit.

If that was what he was here for.

"No, if I wanted to kill Kaldur for that, I'd have done it by now." He closed his eyes, as if recalling some memory, and she wondered what exactly gave him the confidence to believe she wouldn't stab him right then and there. "You know, I thought it would be easy to take this job."

"If you want to quit, feel free," she growled, mentally taking inventory of what weapons would be most effective in a fight. The sword was her most obvious choice, but it would also be the most expected and thus, the easiest to counter. Then again, his eyes were still closed so attacking now would be the smartest move.

But it wouldn't get her an explanation for why he was here.

"Yea, I bet you'd love that. See my friend and I have been going through a real rough patch these last few years, but honestly, I needed the cash. Or at least that's what I told myself, because even I wouldn't be stupid enough to try and kill Manta's kid, right?"

 _Alright, enough of this_ she thought. The only thing she needed less than hearing Cameron talk about her death was her him openly talk about killing Kaldur. The kind of talk she would be expected to respond to with violence. "I'm only going to say this one time Junior, so you better listen carefully."

"Get. Out." She considering making a move for the darts in her pouch, but then remembered that the dosage wouldn't work on him fast enough. Not with his metahuman powers up.

"I keep telling myself to let it go. That I needed to focus on the mission now, worry about seeing her later," he continued, ignoring her completely. "But to tell you the truth, it's been a bit hard to keep lying to myself."

"If you want to meet your friend early, I can arrange for that," she threatened, trying to ignore the pang of guilt his words evoked.

Cameron let out a laugh. "Fiesty. Yea, she was like that too."

He opened his eyes and glanced back her way, his posture still too relaxed for someone breaking into a deadly mercenary's room and issuing threats. "I gotta say, your name bothered me for the longest time. It sounded so damn familiar."

"That's what happens when you build a rep bigger than just being daddy's boy. People hear your name," she sneered. She decided to put her sword down and cross her arms, giving her stealthy access to the blade hidden in her breastplate armor because _yes_ , Tigress slept with her body armor on. For situations exactly like this. Mentally, she started going over the plan of attack. Reviewing what she knew about Cameron's fighting style.

_He likes to aim low. Freeze a moving target in place. I have to jump to avoid it, and close the gap._

He let the ball bounce back into his hand and kept it there, icing it over and using the same ball-holding hand to wag a finger at her. "No, no, no I heard your name waaay before your rep was being built. Before I was even properly known as Junior."

Her pulse quickened and she tightened her grip on the handle of the hidden knife, but her mind was scrambling to understand what he was hinting about. As far she knew, there had never been a villain that bore the name Tigress before she adopted it. _What's he talking about?_

"Wow," he said, raising his eyebrows. "You really don't understand how stupid of a mistake you made do you?"

And then he threw the ball at her face.

She pulled the hidden knife out and sliced it in half before lunging for him. Immediately, re-forming his ice armor she expected him to blast her with ice but he surprised her with an ice-packed punch to the gut. She moved her body with the punch to counter the force of it, and kneed him in the chest, using her armored kneepads to try and get a meaningful hit on his ice armor. It didn't do much, because the next thing she knew his right hand was morphed into an ice club and he was swinging for her head. She ducked and, knife in hand, her eyes caught the spot in his ribcage where she knew the knife would be able to pierce his ice armor.

Artemis would have hesitated. Tigress didn't.

Cameron grunted in pain as the knife broke through and drew blood. She used his momentary shock to sweep his legs and throw him to the ground. Flipping him on his face, she twisted his arm behind his back and shoved his face further into the ground.

"What the hell did you do that for, Junior?" she spat, keeping her knee firmly in his back.

"Well fuck," he rasped, his voice strained. "There's only two people in the world who know about that exact kink in my armor. I'm one. And the other is supposed to be dead."

_"You'll have to stab me right there. Don't hold back, you'll have to shove it in hard to get through the armor and do enough real damage to make it convincing."_

"And let me tell you, I know the difference between a lucky stab and when someone is aiming for something."

 _Fuck,_ Artemis thought, realization of her mistake dawning on her. She could have sworn her heart stopped beating.

"So I think I'll be the one asking questions from here on out. _Artemis._ "

_No no no no._

"Excuse me?" she said, trying to cover her shock with more anger.

"Cut the crap Artemis, I know it's you," he rasped.

"You need to stop whatever mind game this is," she said, trying to call his bluff.

_The glamour charm is on. There's no way he can see me._

Cameron struggled to turn his face sideways, so that he could sort of see her face. "Artemis, I swear to God I'll start screaming your name."

"I'm not sure who that is, but I can tell you that's not my name."

"Oh really, _Artemis_ " he said, raising his voice a few decibels. "Because, _Artemis,_ it would be a shame if someone were to find out that you, _Artem_ -" she twisted him around onto his back and clamped both gloved hands over his mouth.

"Would you shut up!" she hissed. "Anyone could walk by and hear you."

His eyes widened in recognition, and she could feel his lips form into a smirk underneath her hands. She cursed herself mentally.

_Annoying son of a bitch._

"I'm going to remove my hands from your mouth. Are you going to stay quiet?" she asked, voice quieter now.

He nodded and she moved her hands slowly from his mouth, then stood up, removing her body weight from his chest.

"Oh my God. You're alive." He whispered, taking a deep gulp of air. He touched the spot on his ribcage that was covered in blood, forming a new layer of ice over it to stop the bleeding. "And you stabbed me in the ribs, for the second time now."

"You literally baited me into doing it!"

"What the hell are you doing here?" He raised his hand before she could answer. "Wait, let me guess. You're undercover, with Manta's kid. I pieced that much together myself. But why the _hell_ are you here? Instead of in your stupid house with your stupid boyfriend living your normal life."

"Because I'm needed."

"Yea, I'm going to need a little more explanation than that. Starting with how the hell you look like a whole other person."

"Right, well," Artemis double checked that her door was locked, and then took off her glamour charm. "Let's start with this."

"What even?!"

...

"Well now I feel less guilty about missing the funeral," Cameron said, sinking in all the information Artemis had just conveyed to him over the last hour of their discussion. They were both sitting at opposite ends of her bead, his ice armor down again except for over his cut. Her glamour charm was back on, at her paranoid insistence.

"How did you find out I had died?"

"Tommy Terror told me."

"Oh," she answered, taken aback. "I'm sorry you had to find out that way."

"Yea well it's whatever. You better save your apologies for when your done, because your mom is going to kill you for making her stress about whether or not you're gonna die in some tin can. I can't believe she even let you do this."

Artemis looked away guiltily.

"Artemis…your mom does know where you are, right?"

"We didn't tell her to keep her safe. In case anyone came asking."

He facepalmed. "Oh my God, she's absolutely going to _murder_ you when this is over."

"She's going to murder me again when she finds out that you pieced it together because you randomly remembered where the name Tigress came from. I'll never live that down."

"That was just the final piece of the puzzle. Did I not explain all the investigative genius that led up to my discovery?"

"Yea well...the world always had a way of underestimating you," she said. Then, quieter, she asked: "How did you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Take this job. Knowing what Kaldur 'did' to me," she said, using air quotes. "Doing it without looking like you wanted to kill Kaldur."

"What I said earlier, I meant. About thinking about that. Honestly. I figured I'd take the money and wait for an opening to get revenge."

"You were in the field with Kaldur several times, and you never did anything."

"Every time it crossed my mind, I remembered that you wouldn't have wanted me to do it. You would have wanted him to 'face justice' or whatever they taught you in hero school." He laughed. "Which I think is total bullshit. If I was killed by someone I trusted, I'd 100% want vengeance. Anyway, I was probably just going to screw him over by handing him over to your teammates. I just hadn't gotten that far yet.

"That's...very thoughtful of you."

He shrugged, and they both sat there in silence for a few moments. Taking in the the information both had thrust on each other.

Artemis spoke again first. "I wanted to tell you, you know. If I thought there was a way to do it without endangering the mission-"

"If you knew how I felt, then you'd know the me knowing wouldn't have threatened you for a millisecond," he interjected, visibly offended by the insinuation.

"I'm not saying that! But you were working for the people who supposedly killed me, and doing a good job of pretending it didn't bother you. What assumptions did you think I was going to make?"

"I don't know!" he answered back, still miffed.

"Look, Cam, I know things are still...complicated between us. But," she leaned over and engulfed him in a hug, "It's really good to see you frostbite. Or, for you to see me I guess."

"Yeah." She felt him lose a lot of the tension, and slowly return the hug. "I'm just happy you're alive."

"I-" whatever she was going to say was interrupted by the sudden blaring alarms. Attack alarms.

"What the hell?" Cameron asked, as Artemis untangled herself from him, grabbing her sword and face mask before heading for the door. She opened it and was almost immediately run over by the mob of mercenaries running down the hall towards the control room. Spotting a squad leader, she grabbed him by the shoulder to stop him for questions.

"What's going on?" she barked, all Tigress now. The squad leader started to answer but paused as he glanced between her and the still disheveled looking Cameron standing right behind her.

In her room.

In the middle of the night.

_Ugh, this is going to make the henchmen gossip rounds fast._

But that was a problem for later. Because what the squad leader said when he found his voice was far more concerning.

"We're under attack by the Justice League."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two weeks in to 2021 and it looks like 2020 is dropping a remix lol. Hope everyone doing well and that this chapter lived up to the hype. Let me know your thoughts!


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tigress and Icicle Junior spend some time together,
> 
> Ages: Artemis is 19, Cameron is 21.

**Spring, Team Year 5**

The next 48 hours were a blur. If you asked Cameron to describe it, he'd say something like this: Explosions. Lots of cursing. Fighting random superheroes. An annoying Black Beetle. Even more annoying Reach aliens. Many bruises. More explosions. Superheroes escape. Pissed off Black Manta.

Oh, and Artemis – _who was still alive_ – was separated from him the entire time. For a brief, horrifying moment, he thought that she might have been killed in the attack and he had to resist the urge to grab the nearest Manta mercenary and threaten to shove an icicle down their throat if they didn't tell him where Tigress was right that moment. Then he remembered that _she's undercover, idiot, and these are her friends doing the attacking._ _They don't kill._

Still, he couldn't help the sigh of relief that escaped him when Artemis found him in his quarters two nights after he confronted her, confirming that she was ok. She was.

Kaldur wasn't.

"What the hell do you mean, 'he's in a coma'?" he asked, still trying to understand what she was saying.

"Well, not really. He _was_ in a coma, but Miss Martian managed to fix it. Only Black Manta's going to kill her once he doesn't need her, so we have to act like he's still in a coma."

"Great, that's just great. Didn't you guys have a plan for this? And why the hell did Miss Martian put him in a coma?"

Artemis let out a tired sigh, and Cameron noticed how similar it was to her normal frustrated sigh, even with a completely different voice and face. "They didn't exactly know we were undercover."

"Wait, wait, you didn't tell your own teammates that you were undercover?" he asked incredulously.

"We needed to keep it as realistic as possible, so we told only the people who absolutely needed to know."

"From where I'm sitting, it sounds like there's a whole lot of people who needed to know, like oh, I don't know, the one who just tried to scramble Aquaboy's head like Tommy Terror at the Thanksgiving table!" he exclaimed, throwing his arms up in frustration.

"It's Aqua _lad_ , and Kaldur'ahm for as long as we're on this sub, and keep you voice down!" she reprimanded. Now was not the time for a slip-up, not with Manta on edge and Deathstroke breathing down her neck. "And what do you want me to say? I was just as surprised as you to find out what she did."

He crossed his arms and scoffed. "Can't say I'm surprised. It lines up with her track record real well, not that the Justice League's done a damn thing about it."

At that Artemis turned her head on a swivel, eyes narrowing. "What are you talking about?"

He looked at her with surprise. "You mean you haven't heard? The beautiful Miss Martian's been on one hell of a tear the last year or so." When Artemis didn't say anything for a few moments, he continued, his voice a little gentler. "What she did to Kaldur? She's done to more than a few henchmen caught the wrong side of her. The ones who were lucky had people who knew people that could fix them. The ones who weren't...well some randomly woke up normal again. And some are still drooling into space."

Artemis sat down and made that scowling face she tended to do when mulling a piece of information she didn't like. She stayed like that for a while, and Cameron let her stew in those thoughts.

After a bit, she spoke up, voice resolute. "Well, she fixed Kaldur. When we're done here, we're going to find everyone else she's done this to and she's going to fix them too."

...

 _Yup,_ Artemis thought as she leapfrogged over a series of ice structures Cameron was erecting and landed combat boot first into the back of the last combatant, perfectly executing a move they'd last done half a decade ago, _I was definitely right to worry about spending time with Cam._

With Kaldur "in a coma" and M'gann under constant surveillance, her workload as Tigress had increased dramatically. Even though he wanted her watching M'gann, Black Manta was also insisting that she personally oversee even the most routine excursions while he took her place watching over his son. As a result, she found herself naturally gravitating towards Cameron both in and outside of the field. She tried to stop it when she noticed, but Cameron wasn't a willing participant in her plans to stay distanced.

"We can't spend too much time together. It draws attention," she said, hacking into the pathetic security system that stood between them and their target.

"You know they think we're an item already," he responded, icing up the door behind them to prevent anyone from following suit easily.

"It makes it that much harder for me to do my job if they think I'm sleeping around." The security system pinged green, and the sliding doors opened, revealing a long corridor towards the door they actually wanted to go through.

"Oh please, villain hookups are way more common than you think. It's when they try to hide it that everyone really pays attention." The conversation ended there as they ran into yet _another_ group of woefully underequipped security staff, and a new conversation filled with grunts, head nods, and yelps of pain took its place.

Soon her routine with Kaldur was replaced with a new routine with Cameron: Wake up. Check in with Black Manta, then Kaldur & M'gann. Run training sets with Manta's men and with both Cameron & the Terror twins. Grab grub from the cafeteria, where Cameron started conspicuously sitting with her. Check in with Kaldur & M'gann again. Run the small missions that Manta was still allowing, usually with Cameron accompanying her.

Like she used to with Kaldur, she'd find herself at the end of the day debriefing with Cameron in either his room or hers, albeit with extra precaution to avoid being seen and avoid adding fired to any circulating news. It didn't take long for those debriefing sessions to devolve into the time-wasting mind-numbing conversations of the older days.

Conversations such as:

"Ok, first of all, _ew_ , and second of all, no I'm _not_ dating a human vibrator."

"Well if he's not a human vibrator, is it true that he's the uh, fastest man alive?" Cameron asked, wriggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"I don't know, is it true that the cold keeps things nice and shriveled?"

"Touché Rapunzel."

Or:

"I'm serious, at least 25% of the villain community thinks Batman is a vampire. Straight up," Cameron said, munching on some local cuisine he snuck in form their last outing.

"They're wrong, but I mean, not by that much. Hey, do people still think Superman and Wonder Woman are a secret item?" Artemis asked, twiddling with the mystery meat Cam brought. She wasn't sure what was more disturbing about it, the greyish color or the sole fried arm still attached to it.

"Oh no no no, you're information is soooo outdated. Last time I checked, the oddsmakers had it at 3:1 that Superman was actually her son, since she's a billion years old, and the reason Batman is so grumpy - other than being a vampire mind you - is that he really wants to smash Superman's mom and can't."

"There's official oddsmakers now?"

"Yea, there was a huge scandal with Riddler and some of the Rogues in Central City, so they hired some actual oddsmakers and everyone just kind of went on board with it."

"Wow...so Batman and Wonder Woman huh?"

"Wait till you hear the bets people make about the Green Lanterns."

For Artemis, the steady stream of conversation and inside jokes Cameron provided made life just a little easier, especially with Kaldur & M'ganns cover in tenuous positions. For Cameron, it meant that the Pandora's box of emotions he was fighting to keep closed was no longer there. And for both of them, it was the familiar comfort of knowing they had each other's back, even if they never said it outright.

Artemis counted herself lucky that Black Manta had been distracted enough about Kaldur's situation to put all of the Light's major plans on hold.

...

 _Counted myself lucky way too fast_ she thought, standing in Black Manta's office and taking in the intense scrutiny of his gaze.

"Tigress, you have done an admirable job of looking after Kaldur'ahm. I must thank you for your efforts," Manta started. Here in the confines of his office, he let the tiredness seep into his voice, and the wrinkles on his face looked deeper than ever before. Three weeks into Kaldur's pretend-coma and the ordeal seemed to be taking a serious toll on him as a father. Artemis almost felt bad for him.

Almost.

"There's nothing to thank me for. Kaldur is my partner."

"Indeed. Partner," he repeated, emphasizing the last word. "I couldn't help but notice that you've gravitated towards Icicle Junior in his absence. I must say I'm surprised."

 _Crap._ So the rumors had reached Manta.

"So am I. But when he isn't being an idiot, he's extremely useful in the field."

"You've been associating with him outside of the field as well. More so than with anyone else."

"And it hasn't affected my performance in any way."

"I see," Manta said, eyes cold. "And would Kaldur'ahm approve?"

"Kaldur is my partner, and a close friend, but rest assured sir, he and I are _nothing_ more. And if I consider Cameron," she did a mental reprimand for using his name and not his villain handle, "worthy of having my back in the field, then Kaldur wouldn't doubt my judgement."

Manta leaned back, mulling over her answer. After a beat, he let his facial expression relax slightly. "Well, I shall trust your judgement, as my son has done time and time again. Now, let's discuss why I really summoned you: We have an urgent mission for the Light and I need you to handle it."

 _Shit._ Artemis thought fast for an excuse.

"I don't feel comfortable leaving the Martian alone with Kaldur, even with Deathstroke watching over."

"Normally I'd agree, but this mission is time sensitive, dangerous, and critical to the success of The Light's mission. Because of that, I am entrusting you to complete it while I watch over Kaldur'ahm. Trust me, if this was avoidable, I wouldn't risk it."

She did _not_ trust him, but relented anyway. "What is the mission?"

"A small excursion into a Venezuelan lab. Report for debriefing in an hour."

"Yes sir."

"And Tigress...bring Icicle Junior with you."

…

The "small excursion" turned out to be a massive break into yet another highly fortified government facility. This one was in the process of finishing a malware that would be able to trace and knock out several of the black cybermarket players that were of interest to The Light. Not members, but people of interest. The plan was simple: Temporarily open a hole in the security system, sneak in through patrols, download the malware, and then get back out before the system reset and noticed the gap. Ideally, they'd be leaving the malware on the systems so that the world's law enforcement could take out competitors while the Light's contractors would be given the proper security updates.

Which meant that Artemis had to download a second copy to get to Nightwing, so that they could find a way to counter that.

"Look," she whispered to Cameron as the creeped up on the facility. "We've got thirty minutes between when I start the download and when the alarm systems will reset and go off. Plenty of time for us to be out of the compound before it goes off."

"I'm sensing a very hard 'but' coming up," he responded.

"I need to copy the data so I can pass it on to the League. But I have to do it at the server, which means a second download on site."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning I need to do two downloads. So our escape window is more like 7 minutes."

Cameron grimaced. 7 minutes meant they'd make it out of the compound, but would probably have to fight their way back to their escape pod.

"Remind me again why you brought me here instead of the Terror Twins?"

"Because I don't trust the Terror Twins. And because I vouched for you in front of Manta, and now he wants proof that you're not completely incompetent."

"Great," he chuckled dryly. "A risky mission neither of us really want to do to prove something to a dad. Sound familiar?"

Artemis pulled out her blow-darts as she got a visual on the first of the perimeter guards. "Just like old times."

...

"It's gonna be just like old times Cam. It's gonna be great," Cameron complained in a sing song mock voice.

"I never said it was going to be great."

"Yea well you never said we were going to be mucking our way through a literal sludge of shit."

Artemis was tapping away at a computer attached to her wrist. "There, the transport sub will reroute to meet us five miles from here, closer to Caracas. The authorities will assume we went the opposite direction, away from roadblocks and searches. We'll be able to avoid them by sticking in the sewer lines. One of these opens right up at the coast where we'll meet the sub."

There was a bright flash and a _click_ that had her halfway to throwing some smoke bombs before she could direct her glare at Cameron's smirk behind a smartphone.

"Just taking a picture."

"What for?" she snapped, putting the smoke bombs back in their respective pouches.

"I needed picture of a wild Tigress in her natural habitat: The sewage system."

"We've got five miles between here and our next exit." Now it was her turn to give him a mischievous smirk. "Plenty of time to see how well ice & sewage mix, Frostbite."

Plenty of time indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After so many chapters of mostly angst, it felt nice to get some Frostbite bonding back in here. I swear once we move past season 2 I have a lot more fluff drafted (not saying there won't be more angst....)
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading!


	28. Family Ties

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Artemis & Cameron have another conversation, this time in the aftermath of a family visit.
> 
> Ages: Artemis is 20, Cameron is 21.

**Spring, Team Year 5**

In hindsight, it shouldn't have surprised her when her sister and father stormed the submarine looking for Kaldur's blood. It should have surprised her even less that her dad came along out of concern for his street cred than a paternal driver for vengeance.

_Honestly, only my family._

"Honestly, only your family!" hissed Cameron while she stitched up the gash on his forearm. The one Jade gave him _after_ finding out Artemis was alive for "the sake of being realistic."

"To be fair, if she really wanted to make it realistic she would've used one of her poisoned blades," Artemis offered.

"Wow, I feel so special," he groused, but his grumpy attitude couldn't tank her spirits.

M'gann was free. Kaldur was "officially" awake and firmly entrenched in The Light's inner circle. Her family not only knew she was alive but managed to escape unharmed without anyone's cover being blown.

All things considered, it couldn't have gone much better. And as messed up as it was, it still felt good to know that even in death, her sister had her back. Enough to put up working with their father.

Meanwhile, Cameron was still talking in the background. "You know, it's only a matter of time before your mom finds out," he said. His face perked up with some downright glee, as he commented: "Man, she's going to _murder_ your dumb boyfriend."

She grimaced. "That's not going to be a fun conversation for him. Or me."

"Yea well, I'm sure it'll be better than you think. As long as you show up in one piece, everyone's going to be too happy just seeing you safe to be mad. Take it from someone who should be mad but isn't."

"Hmph. You haven't met my mom."

"I actually did."

Her head whipped back up to him, eyes wide. "Wait, what? When? Where?"

"Eh, I kind of just ran into her one day and there were these goons and then there were groceries on the floor and then I was walking her home and having life conversations," he answered nonchalantly.

"Goons? Was she being attacked? How did you even know it was my mom?!"

"I mean I didn't until she was literally rushing me into your old apartment, which, let me tell you, was _weird_ as hell."

"You're not explaining anything!"

"Yeah, well you need to explain how you're such a shitty cook when your mom is so great at it. I mean her Pho is amazing."

"You _ate_ my mom's food? She invited you over for a meal?"

"She kind of forced me into it. Totally worth it, but trust me it felt super awkward at the beginning."

Artemis gave him a bewildered look. "What the hell did I miss?"

Cameron shrugged. "Ask your mom when you see her next. Anyway, the point I was trying to make is that from what I've seen from you nauseatingly good friends, your scarily nice mom, and your violently protective sister, you've got good people around you. It won't be hard to get back in everyone's good graces."

"Let's hope so," she said, leaning back against the bed as they let their minds and their bodies come down from the adrenaline rush of the last few hours.

The peace lasted about fifteen minutes before a thought popped into Artemis's head. An unpleasant thought that swirled around her brain and crawled it's way down as it shaped its way into words that tasted nasty as they left her lips. "What happened to you in Belle Revve?"

Cameron stiffened beside her immediately. "Why are you asking about that?"

"Because I realized I never did before, and you never went into the details."

"The details don't really matter, do they?"

"They do to me."

"Why? You already apologized, and maybe I wasn't clear, but I accepted it. We've already gone over this."

"No, we haven't. You get cagey every time the topic of Belle Revve comes up, and all I know is that whatever reports Dr. Strange gave were fake."

"What's there to say?" he snapped. "Dad was in solitary with most of his guys, so I was alone. After that game of dress up Superboy and Miss Martian played in Belle Revve," he paused, trying to pick his next works carefully. "Well, you know what happened with the other inmates. After a while, Strange got annoyed that my dad couldn't protect me."

"Couldn't or wouldn't?" she asked, chest swirling with righteous anger at senior Mahkent before even hearing his answer.

"Doesn't make much of a difference does it?" he answered bitterly. "Either way, they locked me in solitary to keep the other inmates from turning me into pincushion until I got released."

Artemis swore. There were no records of Cameron going into solitary confinement, no doubt another effect of Strange and his corruption.

"You know it's funny. All these years later, dozens of successful jobs under my belt, my penance paid in full, and it wouldn't mean a damn if I went back to Belle Reve. It would still be a death sentence. They'd have to put me in the box to 'protect' me" he replied, making air quotes around the world protect.

"I wouldn't let the League send you back there. Not under any circumstances. Even if I had to drag your ass out of the Watchtower myself."

"Artemis, I already know I'm not going back to prison. I've tasted what that feels like and it isn't for me." He gave her a grim look. "The next box someone ever puts me into is going to be my coffin."

Maybe it was the intonation of his voice when he said, or the look in his eyes, or just her own guilt, but something about that sentence _scared_ Artemis. And that pissed her off.

"Why are you like this?" she growled. "You think your value is nothing beyond this. This life. Being a criminal. How useful you are to others. To your dad."

"And would I be wrong?"

"Yes! Don't you get that? That there are people who value you for more than just what you can do in the field?"

"Don't put your experiences in the same place as mine. You have a mom whose still around to care. You have a sister who, in her own messed up way, still tried to look out for you. Hell even your dad isn't as bad as mine."

"I'm not arguing that, but I'm telling you, when you do the right thing-"

"Do the right thing? Oh, cry me a river. Every time I've 'done the right thing', it's come at a cost. Make no mistake, I'm perfectly willing to do whatever it takes to survive. Nothing less, but _not a damn thing more._ That's more than 99% of Belle Revve's population can say, and at the end of the day _it still doesn't matter._ "

"Yes it does!"

He shook his head. "No. Maybe for you it did, but not for people like me. Metahumans don't get the benefit of the doubt. If you're not hiding your powers, then you're either with the supervillains or with the superheroes. There is no in between."

"That's not true! You could walk way. When this job is done you get out. Get a life outside of just being Icicle Junior."

"What, leave the life like you did?" he scoffed.

"Yes, like I did! Go back to school, get a normal job, have an actual home instead of safehouses everywhere. Stop answering the phone when your dad or one of his partners calls you up. Don't be Icicle Junior, just be Cameron!" she argued, even as he was shaking his head.

"Yea, get a house, fall in love, go to school, make all these new friends. Forget about who I used to be. Because that worked out so great for you didn't it?"

"It sure feels that way."

"Really?" he asked, gesturing at the space around them. "Because I'm looking around and it seems to me that we ended up in the same spot. Right here, in the same submarine, surrounded by the same villains, and carrying out the same evil missions."

"It's not the same and you know it."

"You're right. If I had been blessed enough to get my mom back, I would never let her think I died."

Artemis inhaled deeply, because that was a _low blow_ and from the way his face dropped immediately after he said it, he knew that too.

"Look, this is why I don't like talking about what happened there. It messes me up, puts me on edge."

He got up from off the bed, stretching his arm and double checking the wrapping on his injury. Seemingly satisfied, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, flat object covered in pitch black wrapping.

"Here," he said, throwing it to her lap as he started to head to the door. "Enjoy your gift."

"Gift?" she asked quizzically, staring down at the object.

"It's your birthday month. Figured it was probably too dangerous to celebrate your actual birthday, so this is the closest I could get. Don't open it until after we're done on the sub."

"Oh. That's...very thoughtful of you."

"Yeah, that's me, always the most thoughtful guy in the room," he said, a grin tugging on his face as if they hadn't just been trading verbal blows aimed at the jugular.

And then he slipped through the door, leaving her alone with her gift and her thoughts.

She waited two minutes before she ripped open the gift, regardless of his previous request not to. It read:

_**"I.O.U** **1 Birthday Gift" Birthday Gift** **Receipt** **:** Redeemable within the next year. Not transferrable to others or for cash. Gift cannot include acts of violence (except sometimes), criminal acts (mostly), or anything involving excursions into the Czech Republic (don't ask). Gift-giver takes no responsibility for any sickness caused by overwhelming awesomeness as a result of the gift. To redeem, present to a one Cameron Mahkent and receive your gift within 3 days._

She smiled.

Somethings still hadn't changed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The internet did a number on the wealthy the last couple of days and it was good old hilarious, wholesome internet content. What more can I ask aside from a comment/kudos from ye who read this chapter?


	29. Endgame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "We're in the endgame now...of this plot arc and maybe but not necessarily this fic" - said the author who couldn't pass up this horrible quote gag.
> 
> Ages: Artemis is 20. Cameron is 21.

**Summer, Team Year 5**

Everyone could feel the tension piling up as things started to fall in place. Where Kaldur & Tigress became more vocal in their commands and insistence that everything be perfect, Black Manta's silence rang loud in everyone's ears as he worked to finalize the details. Meanwhile, Cameron & the Terror Twins could be found regularly sparring on the combat mat for the first time since they came aboard, the three of them but especially Cameron all familiar with the focus needed at the end of a supervillain plot.

Even the rank and file members of the sub cut down on the joking and horseplay that was commonplace among each other, instead mentally preparing for whatever the big showdown would look like. As much as they groused about the apparent laziness and unprofessionalism of their metahuman counterparts, seeing them lock in only reinforced the feeling of an oncoming clash.

No one aboard felt it more than Artemis, except Kaldur.

So when he suddenly requested a meeting in their storage room hideout ASAP, she couldn't help but go from tense to downright rigid.

"We've moved up the timeline. My father tells me that the summit will be occurring next week instead of next month, so we must be ready," he told her, looking particularly unsettled. Next week meant they were losing three weeks of planning time.

It also meant they got to go home three weeks earlier than planned.

"Does everyone know?" she asked. _Does the Team know? Or are we flying in blind?_

"Everyone who needs to does." _Yes._

"Good," she responded, neither of them daring to break the code even in the safety of this bug-free room. Because the biggest errors in any undercover op always happened when the end was in sight and any risk, no matter how small, was too dangerous.

Which is why Artemis should have expected Kaldur's next question. "Are you going to inform your friend?"

It took her a second to understand what he was saying, because he never asked about Cameron. Never said anything beyond knowing glances whenever he saw her spending too much time with him after his "awakening" from the coma. She decided weeks ago that if he wasn't going to bring it up, then she certainly wasn't going to discuss the complicated nature of her friendship with Cameron.

But Kaldur was asking now.

 _Are you going to tell Cameron. Put as all at unnecessary risk?_ _Can he be trusted?_

She briefly contemplated playing dumb, but ended up settling on a non-answer. "He already knows more than enough to harm us."

Kaldur looked at her like he was restraining himself from saying something.

"We've come so far," he said, sporting a grim half smile. "All the sacrifices, the hard choices. My friend, I'll trust your judgement."

There was no subtext there.

…

"One week?" Cameron asked, the two of them huddled in the same storage unit her and Kaldur had met in just a few hours before.

"We were supposed to have more time but they changed up their schedule. It's all going to go down right at the big summit," Artemis explained, painfully aware that this debriefing was disregarding the extreme caution her and Kaldur displayed in their own meeting.

"I'm guessing I'm not invited to the big shing-ding."

"You and the terror twins are going to be on a secondary mission somewhere in southern Europe. Take everything important with you, because there won't be a job to come back to," she said. If the Light won and successfully betrayed the Reach _and_ escaped the League, Manta would probably execute Cameron for being affiliated with Tigress.

If the Light lost, but The Reach managed to outmaneuver the League in the aftermath, the entire planet would be turned to mindless slaves.

But if everything went right...if everything went right then The Light would be done. The Reach would be done. Black Manta would be in jail. And then-

"And then what?" Cameron asked, interrupting her train of thought with impeccable timing. "After. When the games are over?" _What's going to happen when the masks come off?_

"Then we all go home," she answered, unsure of what those details meant.

"Home. Right."

 _Home._ Anything would beat the iron walls of this submarine, but the thought of returning to one of many impersonal, poorly kept safehouses didn't exactly spread feelings of joy and warmth through Cameron's naturally cold body.

"Things will be crazy, but we can find a spot to rendezvous after the summit. We'll need all the help we can get cleaning this mess up," she offered, and now she was veering into dangerous territory, talking about their actual mission openly.

"No can do. League protection or not, I can't have everyone knowing that I helped you. You need to keep my name out of this mess."

"You're implicated in trafficking kids! I keep your name out of it and they'll track you down and toss you in Belle Revve." If she was toeing the line before, now she was bulldozing right past it.

"I can handle myself."

"I have to tell them you were in on it. If I don't Kaldur probably will and _yes,_ he knows. You don't really have a choice in this Cam."

He opened his mouth but she cut him off. "We've had this argument already. I'm not going to waste my breath, but I'm not going to stand by and watch you get hauled to jail. You get a clean break after this. What you do with it is up to you. I can't live your life for you, but you know my door is always open."

"You and Wally's door."

"This isn't the 18th century. My actions aren't dictated by men. If I say you're welcome, you're welcome and he'll accept it."

"Yea yeah, that's not what I'm saying," he answered defensively. But his concerns were clearly not assuaged.

"Look, I get it, you're nervous. But you're gonna have to make a choice Cam. You're gonna have to decide who you are."

…

The Terror Twins officially got the news before he did, but he told himself that was because of Tuppence's late night rendezvous with the henchmen's name he couldn't be bothered to remember, and not because they took the Terror Twins more seriously than him. Black Manta was captured, betrayed by his own son, who - _shocker_ \- had never truly left the heroes. Tigress, his supposed lieutenant, was actually the very much not-dead Artemis.

Tuppence eyed him warily as she recalled that last bit of information. Honestly, Cameron didn't care if she made her own assumptions.

_No one's going to believe I was smart enough to be involved in this mess._

"We're headed back stateside. You comin' junior?" Tommy asked. With their boss out of commission, there was no reason to stick around.

"Nah. I think I'll take a vacation, you know," he shrugged. "Maybe relax in the Caribbean for a bit."

Tommy nodded, and behind him Tuppence gave him one last critical look, as if searching for answers to a question he really hoped she wasn't planning on asking. And then they went their separate ways.

Cameron did not go to the Caribbean. Instead he booked the first flight to Switzerland under an alias he hoped wasn't already burned.

There, he moved to empty out his emergency funds, more than a little surprised to see that they hadn't been already taken by the Justice League, and also cash his his earnings from the Black Manta job. It was a pretty sum, but he moved it around, avoiding the usual shady bankers his father employed and instead going a separate route that no one would think to associate with him.

Turns out if you spend a lifetime around criminals you picked up a thing or two about money laundering.

From there he rewarded himself with some touches of the five star lifestyle: He checked under different names at various mountain resorts and spent his days alternating between rubbing elbows with well dressed, snobby reach people and exploring the tourist traps designed for said snobby rich people. He enjoyed the freedom from the harsh walls of the submarine and the permanent swiss chill that felt just right for his cool body.

No missions. No fights. No running from the law. No tiptoeing around the edges of lies. It was relaxing.

Relaxing got boring after about two weeks.

He didn't call Artemis, but she didn't call him either, not that he'd exactly left her a number to reach him at. He guessed she was probably enjoying getting reacquainted back to her domestic life and explaining to everyone why she wasn't dead.

 _I'll reach out to her when I've got all my stuff in order_ he told himself. Of course, that required him getting his affairs in order.

He thought about taking up one of his fake IDs for a new name. Cameron Mahkent was known as Icicle Junior, and Icicle Junior had been going around committing various crimes with a supervillain crew on multiple different continents over the last year.

But Cameron _Frost_ was guilty of no such things. He thought about brushing up his alias, the last name courtesy of Crystal[1], who had a great laugh at his sentimentality.

"You know, there's a guy in southern France whose really good at backstopping IDs," she told him.

"Yeah, but I need more than really good. I heard a rumor about a rumor of this this lady in Santorini whose work is bulletproof."

Crystal whistled. "She's going to cost you a pretty penny, but yeah, I've heard the same. It ain't easy to get in touch with her though."

He took notes - which he later memorized and burned - and then took out a giant cash withdrawal to fund this new endeavor.

It wasn't until he was starting at his new passport, on a Greek balcony overlooking the Mediterranean sea, that the thought of attending college came to him.

That led him to surf through the various community colleges in Palo Alto – _I'll look at Gotham next_ – looking up their various programs and the entry requirements when he decided to take a gander at Artemis's alma mater.

That's when he stumbled upon it: A small memorial piece dedicated to a recently passed student. A picture plastered in 1080p of a smiling redhead that he recognized.

_R.I.P Wally West_

_A kind, exhuberant young soul, taken from us far too soon. Wallace Rudolph West died tragically in…_

"Shit."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RIP Wally West. Leave a comment or I'll zombify him and make Artemis watch Cameron fight zombie Wally


	30. Misery Loves Company

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cameron checks in, because apparently that's what someone in a healthy friendship does.
> 
> Ages: Cameron is 21, Artemis is 20.

**Summer, Team Year 5**

She was supposed to have time to make things right with everyone.

Well, not right at first.

First they had to crash the summit and destroy The Light's plan, after turning them and The Reach against each other. Then they had to capture Black Manta, and Kaldur had that painful moment with his father that Artemis _did not_ envy in the slightest. And of course, _then_ Black Beetle tried to pull his trump card and blow up the planet, but they beat that too.

So after all that, she was supposed to have time to make things right with everyone. The Team, her mother, Wally. They were supposed to give her a tight hug, be happy she was alive and out safely, and then rip into her and Dick – but not Kaldur, not after what he lost before going undercover – for everything they put them through.

That was the plan. _That_ was the agreement.

Except Wally West died saving the world, not even leaving a body behind for them to bury, and Artemis was left wondering if she should have buried herself in his coffin to make the pain go away.

…

She didn't ask questions when she heard the sound of the front door closing and steps walking down the hallway. A telltale sign of an intruder, given that everyone of her friends made sure to make a lot of noise on their way in every since Zatanna teleported in on her at the peak of an emotional meltdown. Even Jade made sure to announce her presence, though that may have been because she usually came with Lian and didn't want to risk her daughter getting shot at.

Whoever it was that came in hadn't been overtly loud, but they hadn't been quiet enough. The footsteps came paused at the first door, looking into her room. _Their_ room.

The intruder would have seen an empty bed.

Once the sheets stopped smelling like Wally, she hadn't been able to keep sleeping in there, so now she was on the spare mattress in the floor of their guest bedroom. She wondered, even as her arm reached for the compact crossbow on instinct, if she really _cared_ enough to fight whoever it was trying to break into her apartment.

 _They can't be any good if they're stupid enough to break in before the sun even_ _set_ she thought, notching the arrow and firing it towards the door for what seemed like an appropriately non-lethal area. She couldn't help but feel a string of irritation when the arrow she shot froze in midair and crashed into a thousand tiny pieces on the ground.

"A crossbow this time? Spicing things up I see," the intruder said, and she briefly noted that must be slipping because that arrow had most definitely _not_ been aimed at a non-lethal area. For his part, Cameron looked completely unfazed by being shot at.

It probably had something to do with diminishing returns and all that.

"Here I was hoping there was a real criminal breaking in," she deadpanned, unceremoniously tossing the crossbow onto the mattress.

"Ouch. Know how to hurt a guy." Cameron stepped forward to flick the light on, and tried to restrain a grimace when he saw Artemis. It was somehow better and worse that he expected: She wasn't disheveled, hair askew and dressed in days old sweats with stains like the stereotypically depressed widower. From what he saw on his way in, the house itself was slightly messy, but nothing you wouldn't expect from a pair of college students.

But the pain on her face...That was almost too much hurt to look at, permeating in the new lines on her face, each one seeming to reflect a new type of misery.

From the date on the school website, Wally had been dead for over a month, which meant Cameron was the last one to come and check on her. Current and past members of The Team, her mom, The Flash himself, even Jade & Roy – and boy that was weird enough to temporarily get her out of her spiral of sorrow – had all already stopped by. They talked, cried, mourned, dropped food off, and tried to get her to leave the house. It was nice, but it was also _tiring_ because it meant she had to pretend to be better than she really was.

Sure, they all hurt when Wally died, but the cynical part of her kept repeating that none of them, barring the Allen & West families, were hurting the same way she did. And she wasn't really interested in another good-hearted check in, even from Cameron.

"What are you doing here?" she asked him, leaning backwards onto the mattress and scowling straight at the ceiling.

"I got bored," he answered dryly.

"Rob a bank."

"I'm sorry about Wally."

And just like that, the scowl evaporated into a blank face. The walls came slamming back up.

Cameron took a breath and continued, watching her from the side of his eye. "I saw the university website and after that it only took a quick internet search to see the reports of a new Kid Flash. I put two and two together. I was hoping it was another one of your genius mission ideas but-"

"No luck," she spat bitterly.

"Yea. The dusty house and depressed look on your face was a dead giveaway." He sat down on the mattress next to her, and from here he could swear her grey eyes looked duller than he'd ever seen. "I'm so sorry Artemis."

She sat up and glared at him. "Why are you here?"

"Because…because you're hurting. And as a good friend I can't just leave you like this."

"I'm fine," she answered defensively.

"You don't look like you're in a good place."

"I told you I'm fine."

"Really Artemis? After everything that's happened, you want to shut me out?" Cameron asked softly.

"What do you want me to say? That he's dead and I'm not over it? That we were supposed to have the rest of our lives together?"

"That's better than pretending to be ok."

"We had a good thing," she muttered, pulling her knees up to her chest and physically folding herself inwards. "We had a good thing and I had to mess it up." She shut her eyes and willed the prickling sensation of tears away, only opening them when she heard a crinkling sound coming from Cameron's general direction.

He was digging around in a brown bag that he'd materialized from nowhere, and cracked a grin when he noticed that he'd caught her eye.

"What I have here is liquid courage," he announced, pulling out an obscenely large bottle of particularly dark looking alcohol and placing it on the floor between them.

"Please tell me that isn't Crime Alley booze," Artemis, said, eyeing the bottle critically as Cameron brought out two cups and started pouring the liquor.

He feigned offense. "Rapunzel, this is the best drink money can buy."

He handed her a cup and took the other, gulping it down without so much as blinking. She took a sip, expecting some cheap wine, and immediately grimaced at the burning sensation that hit her throat and travelled all the way down.

"How can you drink this?" she coughed out, because it was _not_ wine.

"Metahuman tolerance. This is basically an afternoon mom-wine for me." He took another gulp. "Or something like that."

"You're just trying to get me to talk by getting me drunk," Artemis commented, no heat behind the accusation.

"Yup," he answered, popping the "p" and taking another swig.

It worked, as the two of them spent quite some time talking to each other, in between sips – gulps for Cameron – of the murky booze. Cameron started off talking about nonsense things: Grousing about the crappy seat-neighbors on his return flight. Laughing about the sassiest six year old ever absolutely _demolish_ airport security at his layover in London. Humorous updates on the fates of various villains trying to jostle for more power in the wake of the Reach debacle.

He counted it as a win when she actually laughed at the end of his story about Count Vertigo's failure to create his own island kingdom by defrauding a global grocery store chain.

Eventually, Artemis started talking too. She talked about dealing with the fallout of being dead, and how there wasn't even time for anyone to be mad because of the loss that came afterwards. About how coming back from dead involved a lot of legal paperwork that she was pretty sure Batman had taken care of, because she certainly hadn't. About feeling guilty, numb, and angry at the same time.

She didn't say Wally's name once, and when she stopped talking Cameron picked right back up, talking about his time in Europe and some of the steps he'd taken. Told her about how he had a neat little stash accrued from his pay and officially, he was a free agent and that he was thinking about going to college. Starting off with part-time with a class in criminology or cyrotechnology.

"Frost? Really? You couldn't help yourself could you?" she asked when he told her about his new name.

"I've never been good at being subtle. Why start now?"

The two passed out sometime after 3 a.m, the liquor bottle empty on the floor between them.

…

Cameron woke up to a string of Vietnamese curses, and a hazy recollection of where exactly he was. Popping one eye open, he felt his heart rate temporarily spike when he didn't immediately recognize his surroundings. The lack of restraints or immediate pain tamped down the panic, but things didn't come into focus until he he looked to his left and saw Artemis clutching her head with both hands, clearly suffering the early stages of a hangover.

"You look like shit," he said, almost reflexively going for the verbal jab.

She mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like "You smell worse," before uttering some more vile sounding words in Vietnamese and then adding, in her first clearly legible words of the day: "I need some damn coffee."

"If only there was a magical way for coffee to appear from a machine in your kitchen," Cameron ribbed.

Artemis shot him a nasty glare before moving to get up which, as the the feeling of someone punching her in the stomach while her eyelids were being held down by cinderblocks told her, was a _horrible_ idea. She made it halfway up before collapsing back down on the mattress, an action that sent waves of pain through her head.

"The hell..." she groaned. "You said that was the best booze money could buy!"

Cameron shrugged, not that she could focus beyond the massive hangover to look at him. "It was the best, strongest booze that $25 and five minutes at a Gotham bodega could buy."

"Ohhh, you ass." She leaned forward to punch him but once again, her body protested even this minimal movement, and she aborted the movement halfway through.

"You know it's your own fault for not noticing. It wasn't exactly high quality liquor."

Artemis made a mental note to punch him extra hard later.

"When I can move again, I'm gonna bust your ass all the way back to Gotham," she promised, face still in her hands.

"Please 'mis, you couldn't bust open an egg in the shape you're in," he said, standing up and immediately registering the familiar tinge of nausea that followed excess drinking. Luckily for him, his body was faring much better than Artemis, who was glaring at him through her hands.

"How are you even moving right now?"

"Good old metahuman resistance. I've got a headache, but I'll be fine."

"Great. You can make breakfast."

"Typical blondie. First you take advantage of my booze, now you take advantage of my hospitality."

"Stay long enough for this hangover to pass and I'll show you hospitality."

Cameron smiled as he made his way to the kitchen. Hungover threats were a sight for sore eyes compared to the Artemis he'd walked in on last night.

He rummaged through her kitchen and found himself surprised by how much food was just lying around. The pantry was stocked full of various snacks, including an obscene amount of Choco cookies. He vaguely remembered Artemis mentioning something about one of her teammates having an addiction during a conversation at The Rubber Ducky.

The fridge was filled to the brim, like something out of grocery store advertisement, including an offensive amount of freshly baked goods. There were a couple of handwritten notes taped to the outside of the fridge too.

_Made some banana bread. It'll go well with the ice cream Raquel dropped off. - M'gann._

_Dropped off some Romani cuisine while you were asleep. Will be back later to get your opinions. - Dick_

_Girl, I was going to drop off a pie but this fridge is full. I'll be back with Raquel, and we are not going to leave until we've cried through all of M'gann's banana bread. - Raquel_

_Start eating the disgusting amount of food your friends are leaving sis, or I'll start force feeding it to you. You know I will. - Sis._

"Some truly heartwarming sibling care right there," he muttered to himself.

He chose to cobble together some of the baked goods from the fridge, add some toast, and throw in a fresh pot of coffee. He thought about setting the kitchen table but settled on just bringing the food to the room.

Artemis took one look at the spread and went right for the coffee, gulping it down as fast as possible without burning her throat before even looking at the food. The two ate in relative silence, Cameron eyeing Artemis to assess her mood and Artemis roundly ignoring his gaze in favor of nursing her hangover.

Cameron took care of cleaning afterwards, only _possibly_ damaging the dishwasher in the process.

It wasn't until he was back in the room, standing against the doorway and watching Artemis nurse her second cup of coffee before he asked: "So, are you going to ask?"

"Ask what?"

"Come on Artemis, don't beat around the bush."

"What bush?"

He let out a sigh of exasperation. "We spent half the night talking, and you never once asked me if I was out of the life."

Her grip on the coffee mug tightened. "You've never wanted to talk about it before."

"And since when has that stopped you?" he asked, even as his mind echoed _yea we **really**_ _don't like talking about this, so what the hell mouth?_

Now it was Artemis's turn to sigh. "I just can't right now. I can't...you'll say yes because you feel bad for me."

"Not true, and even if it was, in the past you'd take that yes and beat me over the head with it."

"If you say yes and don't meant it...I can't deal with that. Not right now. Not after everything."

"I've never lied to you."

She looked at him somberly. "Then don't start today."

It was unnerving for Cameron to hear Artemis sound so...dejected. To hear the tone of his own pessimistic viewpoints repeated to him from the very person that always shot them down so defiantly made him suddenly desperate to push back and get her to believe.

"It wouldn't be a lie."

"Then it would be a promise you don't know if you can keep. And then it _would_ be a lie, just to yourself instead of me. Honestly Cam, if something happens and your dad calls, needing you to do something bad to save his hide in prison, can you tell me you'll say no, no matter what?"

He opened his mouth to answer, but the words he was looking for never materialized. The ensuing silence said enough.

"See?" she pointed out, fighting her hangover enough to manage a weak shrug. "It's not fair. I understand that now, and I'm sorry I didn't before."

"You have nothing to be sorry about," Cameron said assertively.

"Don't I? You were right after all. I had everything, and I walked away. Arrogantly thinking it would still be here when I was ready to come back."

"You saved the world."

"I couldn't save _him_ ," she retorted bitterly.

"He saved _you_. And me. And from what I hear, the rest of the planet. Look, I'm not gonna pretend I know exactly what you're going through, but I can tell you two things Artemis: Time will make you feel better. And you're gonna need much stronger coffee for that shit hangover you've got."

Artemis snorted. "This is the strongest coffee I've got."

"Yea, I know. That's why we're going to have to stop by the infamous Rubber Ducky, and see what overpriced monstrosities they've got. Now I don't feel like dying in a car crash by letting you drive - and that's before the hangover - and I also don't feel like driving, so I'm gonna call a Schoober [1] for us."

"I guess I'll have to put on clothes that don't smell like booze."

"You do that, I'm going to go make sure the dishwater doesn't explode," he answered, already on his phone looking for the Schoober app

"Yup. And Cam?" she called out, just as he was about to close the door behind him. "Thanks."

He smiled. "Anytime Rapunzel."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm planning to introduce more of the YJ-cast and have more fluff/comfort in the home stretch of this fic. I think it'll wrap up at 40 or 45 chapters (but then again I thought this entire fic was going to be 15 chapters at first so take that with a grain of salt lol). Much love to everyone who has read, commented, or left a kudos! 
> 
> [1]Fictional ride-sharing company I made up to be petty and not use a company that abuses its drivers.


	31. Baby Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cameron visits Artemis, and tries to nudge her in the right direction.
> 
> Ages: Cameron is 21, Artemis is 20.

**Summer, Team Year 5**

To Cameron's surprise, it turned out Artemis was the one who ended up being a stranger. He kept trying to check in as he moved around, tying up various less ends. His calls here and there while he was scrapping safehouses went to voicemail. Amused text messages while he met with corrupt bankers to drain more than a few of his father's larger accounts went unanswered. Hell, he even sent a few emails while he was in Kazakhstan, fencing the last piece of stolen artwork in his possession to a local oligarch.

Zip, nada, nothing.

He knew she was alive because he was kept hearing grumblings from west coast criminals about Tigress. In fact, it was actually pretty difficult for him to keep a straight face while listening to some of the complaints.

_"I thought she had black hair? This Tigress is blonde."_

_"I hear she's working with Green Arrow and Black Canary. A big shipment got busted by the three of 'em last week."_

_"My courier barely got away from her. Got a broken jaw for his troubles and said she was working with some new archer girl._ _Another blonde in some red uniform."_

_"I heard she had the scariest smile. Reminded the guy of the Bats. Dude was complaining that he didn't leave Gotham just to find the next Bat bug."_

After a month and with most of his big ticket affairs dealt with, Cameron. begrudgingly decided that it was time to stop waiting for a response and make an in-person visit like an actual, responsible friend.

He was still getting used to that idea.

He booked a hotel in Palo Alto for a full week, expecting to have to scout the house a few times for a rare moment where it wasn't filled with legions of Artemis's friends or her family. Even if they knew that he watched out for her on Manta's sub, he wasn't exactly looking forward to interacting with them.

Bad first impressions and all that.

Much to his surprise, when he showed up the first time there was no sign of any guests. With no cars and no noticeable movement from outside the house, he decided _to hell with it_ and just rang the doorbell. If someone was over, he didn't feel like getting caught breaking in, and if Artemis was alone, he didn't feel like getting shot at.

He didn't have to wait long before Artemis answered, opening the door and looking significantly better than the last time he saw her.

So naturally, the first thing he saw was: "You look frickin' miserable."

"Gee thanks," she answered, motioning for him to come in.

"No seriously, I mean this in the best way possible. You look like garbage."

"Takes one to know one."

"I see your wit is doing better," he said as Artemis plopped back down on the couch.

He looked around, and noticed that the house looked...different. Less homely. There was furniture missing. And pictures. The diplomas on the wall were gone.

He noticed Artemis watching his wandering gaze. "The house looks a little more...barren than last time."

"That's because I started packing," she said.

"Packing? " he asked, curiosity piqued. "Where you going?"

"Roy, no, _Will_ wants me to move in with him."

"Who?" he asked, quickly running through the list of Will's & Roy's he knew. It wasn't long, and it definitely wasn't pretty.

"Red Arrow. Or, ex-Red Arrow. He's retired now. You know, kid with my sister and everything."

"Ok," Cameron said, slotting that piece of information away for later. _Cheshire's retired huh?_ _Explains why I haven't heard about her lately._ "How does he get Roy from Will?"

"He found his clone or, actually, he's the clone and found the original. Whole identity crisis kind of resolved." Artemis shrugged. "It was a whole thing. Do me a favor and _please_ don't mention it around my sister."

"Ok…we'll breach that a different day. This Will guy, is he uh, is he all there up here now?" Cameron asked, gesturing towards his brain. "Last you said, Red Arrow wasn't exactly doing the best." _And you should probably be around someone who has all their marbles together._

"Oh yeah. He's just peachy now that he found his other self. Got a kid. Got my sister. He's even growing a dad beard. One big happy family," she responded sarcastically.

"I can't tell if you're being serious. Your sister isn't really the 'one big happy family' type, no offense."

Artemis exhaled. "Jade came back with Lian, moved in with Will. It's like she flipped some switch. She's homely-ish now. Checking in on me. Being motherly. And wife-like. It's disturbing."

"Jade? Being motherly? That _is_ disturbing."

"But they're doing ok, I think? They're like a real family, not the craziness we grew up with."

"That's a good thing, isn't it?"

"Yeah, it is. Weird, but good."

"Then…maybe moving in with them is a good idea," Cameron offered tentatively. Moving out _had_ been one of the things he was hoping to discuss with Artemis at some point anyway. He couldn't imagine living in the same apartment where she was planning a life with her dead boyfriend was helping with the mourning process.

"And what? Just mope around?"

"Be around family."

"Wally is…" she paused and took a painful gulp, like the next word was clawing it's way up her throat against her will. "… _was_ family."

"He wasn't your only family. And they're worried about you."

"They don't want to see me like this."

"I'm pretty sure they'd like to see you period."

"And how would you know?"

"Because while you were 'dead', your sister went through the trouble of breaking into a supervillain submarine just to avenge your death. And then immediately made you her default babysitter when she figured out you were alive. You can't convince me she hasn't been on your case."

Artemis rolled her eyes, but Cameron's assessment stung close to home. Jade _had_ been coming around, more so than anyone else. Unlike her friends, there was no shame or respect for privacy that kept her from coming in and taking charge of her little sister's life. Informing – not really asking – her that she'd be moving in with her and Will when her lease ended. Practically force feeding her. Making her go on runs on the beach. Taking her to the store under the guise of shopping for Lian.

A year ago Artemis would have practically melted at having the older sister she craved finally show up. Instead, she just got angry and lashed out. It never seemed to faze her older sister.

_"You can't just crawl into a hole and die Artemis. That's not who we are. It's not who you are."_

Every time, Artemis snarled something back. Something, mean, harsh, and very Jade-like, the words almost foreign to her own tongue. She shouted accusations about Jade's own tendencies to run, to hide, to abandon. Cursed her for trying to get her to move on.

 _Not my proudest_ _moments_ , she thought to herself now, _but Jade knows that_.

"Artemis, hello, earth to blondie?" She snapped out of her thoughts and turned to look at Cameron, who had concern etched all over his face.

"Yeah yeah, I'm right here."

He eyed her for a few moments before being satisfied she was having some sort of dissociative episode and letting out a dry chuckle. "There's a bad joke in there somewhere about blondes and their attention spans."

She didn't so much as roll her eyes at the remark. Instead her eyes gazed over to the dresser, where a picture frame lay facing downwards. Cameron, following her line of vision, remembered exactly which picture was being obscured.

It was the same one that broiled his blood when he broke in to the house for the first time. An eternity ago.

"What if he comes back?" Artemis croaked, her voice threading the line between hope and sheer devastation.

Cameron felt his stomach drop.

"I know what that sounds like, but he just _disappeared_ ," she continued, eyes somehow glazed but furious at the same time. "People don't disappear Cam! They don't just vanish into thin air. There was no body at the funeral, no dust, nothing. The Justice League did a million different scans, nothing!"

"Artemis-"

"We buried an empty coffin, and we aren't even sure if he's dea-gone. And everyone just wants to move on, wants me to move on. They just gave up!"

"Artemis,-"

"They haven't seen the same things I've seen. They haven't seen Wally in the field. They know, they know he wouldn't–" she gulped. "He wouldn't just leave."

"You said he was saving the world."

"He _did_ save the world."

"Then he saved you too Artemis. I didn't really know him, but if he loved you half as much as you love him, then –"

"He did."

"–Then he wouldn't have left unless he had any other choice."

"It's not fair. It's not fair," she said, voice starting to shake. She wiped away a treacherous tear, steeling herself. "Sorry, you didn't come all the way here to watch me break down for the fifth time today."

"I came here to check in on you. Clearly, I should have done it earlier."

"No, you shouldn't have. I can't do anything these days." _I don't want to do anything._

"Well you can start answering all your friends that care about you. And moving in with that TV Sitcom family that's waiting for you."

"You mean the sister I threatened to stab when she visited yesterday?"

"Isn't that her love language?"

At that Artemis did laugh, and Cameron cracked a grin. It was a glorious sound.

"How about we start packing?"

Artemis sighed. "Can't. I told you, I can't just leave."

"Then I'll start."

"You'll start?" she asked with a snort. "I've seen how you pack, you'll turn this place into a tornado."

"Yea, and then you'll have to get up and clean it, so mission accomplished."

He ignored her the disgruntled sound she made, instead moving over to the rooms. Someone – he assumed Jade, since he doubted any of her friends were ballsy enough – had dropped off a bunch of moving boxes in the spare bedroom, which made the whole process much easier. He grabbed a bunch and started in the rooms, meticulously filling them in the least messy way.

Artemis pointedly ignored him, turning on the TV and cranking the volume up.

Eventually he moved on from the rooms to the bathroom, and then the kitchen. Slowly but surely, three separate but distinct piles of items materialized and grew in size in the living room.

"Alright, I'll bite," Artemis said. "What's with the three piles?"

"So she does speak!" he exclaimed in mock surprise.

"Considering it's my stuff, I'd like to know."

"We'll, I've taken the liberty of organizing things into a 'move' pile, a 'donate' pile, and a 'trash' pile," he answered, pointing to each respective pile. While they all looked the same, upon closer inspection she noticed that there were a lot of random trinkets and less functionally important things in the trash and donate pile, while the move pile was almost exclusively filled with clothes, cleaning products, and various things from the kitchen.

"You can't throw that Cam," she said, pointing at a box of dishes. "Those plates are good."

"There's plates where your moving. This stuff'll just break in the move. Besides, that's not my throw pile, that's my donate pile."

"Why are there two whole boxes labelled 'clothes' in the donate pile? I need to have things I can wear."

"Those aren't your clothes, and there's no point letting you keep all of them. Besides, it seems like a waste to throw them."

Her eyes lit up in a dangerous way. "Those are Wally's? You can't just – " Cameron deftly diverted her attention by pulling out one of her collapsible bows from a box labelled 'miscellaneous', examining it with faux-attention.

"I keep wavering between donating these, and throwing them to make sure no one unsavory gets their hands on them. You've got a baby niece now. Can't be having all these sharp objects laying around the house."

"Now I _know_ you're joking. Jade practically lines Lian's cribs with shuriken's. Put that back in the moving pile."

"No."

"Cam."

"Get up and do it yourself."

" _Cam._ "

He dumped the rest of her archery equipment haphazardly on top of the donate pile, and Artemis twitched violently.

"These go here too."

"The hell they do," she answered, finally getting up to move them firmly into the keep pile.

"What about these?" Cameron asked, holding several action figurines of herself and her old team members.

"Those go in the keep pile too," she added. And just like that it was like a dam opened, and she was rummaging through the different piles, cursing Cameron in Vietnamese, and generally ordering him around.

"Cam, where's all my underwear?" she asked cautiously, peering into one of the boxes with her clothes.

He turned to her with a deadly serious face. "Exactly where you left them. I _never_ go through a woman's dresser without her permission. Bad experience with Crystal." He shuddered as the memory returned.

"Alright, I'll pack up those things myself later. There's a couple of other things tucked away in the house that I need to dig up too. Glad to know you still understand the concept of boundaries."

"I thought those went out the door when I started buying you tampons."

"That was one time."

"Five times, actually."

She didn't answer, instead going back to cursing under her breath while rummaging through the different piles. Behind her Cameron let out a small smile, and when he saw her move one of the boxes of Wally's clothes back into the moving pile, he said nothing.

Baby steps.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Instead of working on this chapter and the next I spent my free writing time working on content like 5 chapters ahead because I am not a linear author. Anyway our baby girl is healing. Yeah, I know I said less angst, and that's coming! This just kind of turned sadder than I expected.


End file.
